


MSR: The early years

by Kalla_Lightheart, Summerlake



Series: Modern Skyrim Romance [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Drama & Romance, F/M, Modern Era, Skyrim Romance Mod
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 19:22:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8727193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalla_Lightheart/pseuds/Kalla_Lightheart, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Summerlake/pseuds/Summerlake
Summary: Everyone has a past, a story that shaped them into what they are today whether that be someone strong or weak, selfish or generous, cruel or kind. These are the recordings of the lives of the many faces that will shape Tamriel in the early years of the 3rd century, 9E. Long or short, containing a moral or not; all left a mark upon those involved.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Each story will be headed by a date and location. They will be posted as they're completed and can be read (or not) in conjunction to the main MSR story. In some, you'll be able to see the "modern take on SRM" a lot clearer than in main MSR.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes our friends think they know what will be good for us and sometimes they're actually correct. And sometimes they hit jackpot and introduce us to something that will change our lives forever - for good or bad.  
> Characters: Eyrie, Kalla, Bishop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co-author: Kalla Lightheart/Gypsy  
> Bishop (from SRM) belongs to Mara Lightfeather  
> Original story (MSR) and art belongs to me  
> Thank you, Bethesda, for the platform for the MSR series.

_9E 204, First Seed, Haafingar, Skyrim_

**_~ Fredas Afternoon, ap. 3:43 p.m. ~_ **

“So where are we going?”

They had barely had time to leave the area the short Nord’s apartment was situated in before the question came. It made the Altmer behind the wheel of the Sabercat X10 shake her head gently but there was a small smile upon her berry-stained lips. “I told you,” she replied as her smile grew into a grin, “to meet a friend.” At the scepticism radiating from the seat next to her of the four-seater convertible, the mer rolled her bright blue eyes. “You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you? I did tell you though, you two will get along fantastically,” she finished and threw a cheery grin at her friend.

“Just keep your eyes on the road so that we actually get wherever you’re kidnapping me to,” the Nord replied as she shook her head, her mass of naturally white-blonde curls dancing around it like a big halo. The tresses that caught the late afternoon rays bleached to a glossy bone white that made her heterochromatic eyes stand out; the left a bright vibrant leaf green, the right the startling clear blue of a deep still lake. She would have looked like a ghost, seated next to the Altmer with softly gilt skin and red hair, but the black leather motorcycle jacket, faded and ripped blue jeans and black laced cropped leather vest broke the imagery of a tiny, blindingly white wispmother. Eyrenni had always found it amusing how even Kalla’s skin refused to submit to the sun’s rule and tan like anyone else’s. It just stayed pale as the moon despite how often the tiny woman was out, jogging in the forests south of the Karth River.

“You keep talking like that and you’re going to sound like you’re someone’s grandmother long before you even have kids of your own,” Eyrenni jokingly warned as she turned out onto the highway that went around Solitude City and the suburb of Katla’s Farm. The latter had been some sort of farmstead back in the olden days but had grown and then more people had settled and the rest, as they said, was history. Beside her, Kalla snorted, the sound telling the mer exactly what the Nord thought of that; it was an old joke, one that got passed between them at least once a week. Eyrenni grinned and flicked on the radio without taking her eyes off the road.

“Shot through the heart and you're to blame. Darlin’, you give love a bad name!”

Eyrenni choked a snort with a chuckle that ended in a smile as the song continued. It fit the occasion perfectly, considering who they were going to see. She turned up the volume a bit to make sure it got heard above the wind rushing all around them and then overtook another car a little too close for comfort. Not that it seemed to bother her passenger though. Eyrenni would guess she wasn’t driving nearly fast enough for the Nord.

“Where’d you learn to drive? I thought all good girls were taught ‘safety first’.” Despite the choice of words, the voice was teasing. They were indeed of a different opinion on what was safe and not: Kalla’s manner of driving was a lot worse than Eyrenni’s --- in the mer’s opinion! --- and the petite Nord didn’t own a car but a sleek black and chrome custom motorcycle. Bikes always changed the game.

“The very best,” the Altmer replied with a grin and pushed the accelerator towards the floor, making the car jump forward with a muted roar of the expensive engine. It was true though. She had been given the safe version by her mother’s driver and then she’d topped it off with the… less safe version, given by someone very _special_. It had all been worth it, every last, little thing that they’d done. Which was probably why she thought this would be a good match.

“Oh, there's nowhere to run. No one can save me, the damage is done.”

_Isn’t that the truth?_ she thought amusedly as a sign appeared in the distance, swiftly growing bigger. She didn’t need to glance at it, she’d seen it often enough before to know what it said. When her mother had gotten the requested reassignment from Cyrodiil to Skyrim approved, there had been a few years when she’d often taken this road. Of course, never as often as could have been nice and always more often than was advisable. The Altmer let the sigh slip out slowly on an exhale, making it inaudible even if the music and wind hadn’t been there. She’d taken this road less as time wore on but never abandoned it completely. After all, how did you abandon something that was so tempting and felt so right? The answer was; you did it if you had to. She’d had to, but years before she came to Skyrim. That was history though. She had grown up and so had everyone else involved. Now… Well, _now_ there was someone she knew who could benefit from her old acquaintance.

_“You could use a good lay.”_

_The woman across from her at the breakfast isle spat the swallow of juice right back into the cup she’d been taking it from. She coughed, almost not finishing, before choking out her reply. “W-what?” She was blushing. The Altmer couldn’t help the laughter bubbling up in her throat. Kalla was far too pale to be able to hide even the faintest of flushes. It was wickedly amusing to try and cause them, too._

_“Yes, and I know the perfect person,” Eyrenni continued mercilessly, expression mostly serious and almost serene. There wasn’t a trace of mocking or humour in there. Kalla’s blush was deepening into something closer to one of the rose bushes whose bounty could be seen through the kitchen windows._

_“W-we’re not—! I—! No! You can keep that… No, thank you, I’m perfectly fine.” The Nord shook her head emphatically. Eyrenni simply raised one perfect, red brow, eyes filled with the reply she didn’t voice; “what a convincing lie”._

_“You need to unwind. Actually, you need to untie a knot or two and I don’t even know which ones to point to because you have so many, my messed up little friend!”_

_“No!”_

_“Yes!” the Altmer countered with a nod. And from there it went._

In the end, as was evident from Kalla’s presence beside her, the woman had given in. Let it remain unrecorded in the annals of history that Eyrenni had thrown a challenge at her. Kalla didn’t dare try to unwind. It had taken all of a few seconds for that sinker to disappear beneath the proverbial surface. It could make her laugh even now.

“Oh yes, do me a favour?” she asked without turning to the other. She could see the raised brow in her peripheral vision though. “Grab my phone and send a text message for me,” she added with a wave at the compartment in front of the gear stick. Kalla dug out the phone and opened up the correct app. There was internet coverage where they were going but… the further from the house you got, the worse it became. She didn’t want to risk sending a message that used the roaming data instead of the normal net.

“All right?”

“Find Ranger in the list,” Eyrenni directed the other woman and waited until she’d gotten another acknowledgement. “Just tell him, ‘on my way over now. Twenty minutes tops’.” If the Nord made any sound while typing, the radio swallowed it but Eyrenni could see the other’s fingers move deftly over the touchscreen. Then there was a pause.

“Any greeting with that? Ending?”

Eyrenni opened her mouth but then stopped herself, words upon the tip of her tongue. She had a momentary struggle with the muscles in her face but she managed to force them still, keeping the grin from spreading over her face. “Just say ‘hi B’ and drop an E at the end. He knows it’s me.”

“Just a B, huh?” The Altmer could hear the suspicion in that short sentence. She couldn’t help it, she grinned and overtook another car with a little too harsh a twist of the steering wheel. Give the girl something else to concentrate on.

“Sure,” she replied with a swift glance at Kalla, grin still in residence. She could have told her friend to make it DB instead. That was an old joke. Kalla would have humoured her, or simply asked because she found her friend annoying when A but not B was said. At least when it came to questions like this, the silly kind. Kalla was not the type to pry into matters that appeared sensitive if the information wasn’t freely given. However, the tiny Nord would have asked if it was some insider joke or reference to the historical hero; the last Dragonborn. Eyrenni wouldn’t have been able to withhold the laughter if that had come up, not been able to help herself even if it would make Kalla blush and squirm in her seat.

_“Why in Oblivion do you call me that?” the young man had grunted at her, frown well entrenched upon his brow as he eyed her from the other end of the sofa. She hadn’t been able to help the wide grin she threw at him as an initial response._

_“Well…” she drawled sweetly. The look he gave her told her he knew perfectly well that she was stalling. It made her heart speed up the next beat in excited amusement. She was digging herself a hole, she knew it, but with him? With him, she loved it and would dig until she came out on the other end, in Akavir. Here was to hoping no one was about to come home early or there was some journalist camping outside for some reason she hadn’t kept an eye on. Her mother’s work sometimes drew them to keep a closer eye on the house. The curtains weren’t drawn… She could,_ should, _draw them, shouldn’t she? Did she care? No. He had made her care less over their short “acquaintance” and she couldn’t care less that she didn’t care. It was exhilarating to not have to care._

_“Well… ladyship?” He’d leaned forward, closing enough of that distance between them so he could drop a hand on her ankle. It lay there, not grasping but heavy with the weight of promise. It made her insides jump. He had to do so little to make her react so strongly. It was so different from her actual boyfriend. The feeling tightening her stomach muscles now threatened to rob her of her speech when she met his gaze. It was that touch of danger, that abandonment of politeness and courteous manner that made her skin sizzle. Some would call it youthful stupidity. She didn’t care. She didn’t want to hear it._

_She had to swallow ever so gently before she could respond and still her grin was glued to her face. “D stands for ‘dangerous’ and the second letter I’m sure you can figure out. Or…” She let her voice drag and trail off, eyes now glittering with a mischievous light. “DB could possibly stand for ‘dangerously big’.” His hand tightened on her ankle, it made her insides all the way up to her throat jump with excitement. It was the chase, the give and take, the teasing that was half the fun, half the excitement. She could live for this… She could even die for this._

_“Just possibly?” His voice had that quality that told her this was a question you should be careful with or face the… “consequences”._

_Her grin grew a touch wider, a wicked excitement beginning to burn in her veins. “My mind is so fuzzy, I fear I’ve forgotten. Maybe I should go out and get someone to compare it to.”_

_The hand tightened around her ankle just that little bit more, a warning that she was about to be moved. “I’d like to see you walk anywhere on shaky legs,” he growled and she choked down a giggle as he pulled her closer while moving fluidly over the sofa cushions to meet her halfway._

“No one fits me better than you!”

The chorus that blasted from the radio jolted her out of the memory. She hadn’t been out of it long, she could tell because Kalla had just turned to cast a glance at her as the phone in her hands announced the message had been sent. Those dual-coloured eyes were now frowning at her. “This message… You mean you didn’t tell your friend until _now_ that we were coming?” The Nord sounded a bit miffed but more at the stupid move on Eyrenni’s part than anything else.

The Altmer flashed a bright smile at her unwitting victim and pushed the accelerator towards the floor once again as they hit the last stretch of the journey. The sign they’d just passed told them that Meridia’s National Sanctuary and Wildlife Preserve exit was coming up next. “Oh, he’ll be fine. He works from home,” Eyrenni evaded cheerfully. “And besides,” she continued with a careless shrug, “he doesn’t mind the company.” _Not this kind of company anyway_ , she amended silently as the corners of her mouth slowly climbed into a wicked curve.

“Eyrie…” her passenger groaned as she covered her face with a hand.

“Live a little more, care a little less!” Eyrenni chirped back at Kalla as she swerved onto the off-ramp without breaking sufficiently.

“Says the person who drives slower and safer than I do,” the small pale Nord muttered while giving the mer a dirty look.

“The difference between you and I is that I’m not a suicidal maniac,” the mer said loftily even as she was smiling teasingly at her passenger.

Kalla rolled her eyes at that before shrugging. “I simply prefer to die upon my own terms.”

Eyrenni just laughed at the wind rushing to meet them. That was very true and one way to put it.

“We're not done, not yet / Morning comes and we're comin' again,” the radio sang on. That was her thought, or her hope, really. If she knew the little hellion beside her and the ranger overseeing the grounds of the national park, and she was fairly certain she understood both of them enough to make the assumption, then it’d hopefully be something like that. And more than once.

They arrived after another ten minutes. The surrounding area had gone from fields bordered by trees here and there to a full on forest, thick with straight-bodied, fuzzy pines, oaks, aspens, bushes and rocks. Turning in on a small, gravel and dirt path, Eyrenni reduced the speed further to avoid having the tiny rocks jump up and destroy the car’s front window. At the end of the road, the dirt turned into a cleared space in front of a lodge. Parked to one side was a dark hunter-green jeep with the Meridia National Park and Sanctuary logo on it, but it left enough space for another car. Eyrenni rolled her own into the spot closest to the lodge’s entrance and secured the hand break.

“All right, get out of my pussy.” The Altmer managed to announce it with an only half-serious tone and a grin chasing the corners of her mouth. Kalla rolled her eyes as she pushed the door open. The joke had been heard before. That didn’t keep one corner of her own mouth from quirking up ever so slightly though.

The shorter woman paused halfway to the lodge and turned to the car while waiting for her friend. Eyrenni was taking off the blazer of her white suit, proving that despite the low flash of cleavage, she did have a top on underneath. Everything from the pencil skirt to the sleeveless, red top had been tailored to her body, making the silky material of the upper garment in particular cling almost like a second skin. Looking at the Altmer like this, from the expensive car to the designer clothes and perfect but natural makeup, their friendship seemed like a strange thing. They were so diverse in taste and style, like two wholly different animals. If they didn’t have the history that they did, Eyrenni would have been the last person Kalla probably would have tried to befriend; well off, privileged, never had to work unless the fancy struck. Eyrenni was a diplomat’s daughter. By her own concession, Kalla knew the mer had certain immunities. The redhead was almost the archetype of what Kalla didn’t like.

So why were they friends?

Well, the evening they’d met, the elf hadn’t thrown her status around. She’d actually been almost too nice when trying to say “no” to the idiot who’d been getting too, as Eyrenni put it, bold for polite comfort. Kalla had called it being far too handsy and downright sexual harassment. It was also why she’d stomped the guy and taken the much taller woman with her as she left the bar. Eyrenni was obviously not from the area, that much had been clear but she’d assumed that the bar, frequented mostly by military personnel, would be safe enough. Kalla had told her that drunken idiots were drunken idiots, no matter where they worked or what walk of life they came from.

It could have ended there, but for some reason it didn’t. And then Kalla had needed a new identity for… reasons. Eyrenni had been the last place Kalla would have thought to look if she was honest but the mer could assure the safety of any computer but bypass it. It meant Kalla suddenly didn’t just have a new name but a history to go with it and an alibi for a specific date or two as well. It was weird to suddenly have that level of security backing her up. Eyrenni had done it with a smile and a comment of how they were even now and so they could start building a proper connection with no strings attached from either side. Kalla had never been certain who got the better deal in the end.

Eyrenni had reached her by now, appearing surprisingly steady in the tan high heels that looked as out of place upon the dirt path as the rest of the elf did. Kalla waited until she’d passed before following, stopping a step behind the other woman when they reached the door. They didn’t have to wait long after Eyrenni threw a knock upon the wood.

She wasn’t really sure what she’d expected but it wasn’t what opened the door, that much she was certain of. The man was slightly taller than the average Nord. Eyrenni’s heels were most likely about three inches and the mer stood barely half an inch taller than he while in them. He wore a sturdy pair of jeans and a dark maroon shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow and only buttoned to little over two thirds of the way. The way the fabric draped and exposed the body underneath, both bluntly and more subtly, it was easy to tell this man was active. A lot. His exposed forearms were bulging with lean muscle; skin tanned deep bronze and dusted with short dark hairs. Very masculine and appealing, Kalla decided.

He pushed a hand up through hair the same shade as leaves in autumn, forcing the cropped tresses further into their unnatural incline. He didn’t seem to be wearing any product though, bringing forth the question if his hair was just inclined to bend all laws of science and mortals.

“Hello, handsome.” The smile was audible in Eyrenni’s familiar and warm greeting as she took a step closer and leaned in to place a quick kiss on his cheek. It wasn’t so much an idle gesture of kissing the air or simply ghosting your lips over the skin; it was a proper press of the lips against the stubble gracing his jaw and cheek. He had apparently expected something else, or at least more, because when she moved a step back and to the side, his left brow was raised at the elf. The brow itself was cut nearly in half by a scar and when Eyrenni stepped out of the way, another pair became visible on the opposite side of his face. It didn’t even take a second before whiskey coloured eyes turned to Kalla. The sun chose that moment to peek through the trees and cast some of its dying rays upon them, haloing Eyrenni and gently gilding the other two.

“And what have you brought with you then, Trouble?” the man in a deep, slightly gruff rumble, asked as his eyes surveyed Kalla, the faintest of smirks playing upon his lips while his eyes betrayed a touch of a frown. They also held the warmth of amber and fire now that the sun suffused them, just like his hair held a reddish sheen to it. Molten copper and gold set in tan hide, like the kind of ancient jewellery one might find in museums and imagine a warrior of old wearing. No stones, no fuss, just metal for protection, hide for comfort and a bit of artistic flare to show a true craftsman had worked the piece, much like how those ancient weapons had runes and other imagery carved into them for no other reason than beauty’s sake. It all came down to a barbaric sort of adornment, like the wolf’s tooth she’d just noticed dangling from the leather cord around his neck. The picture in its entirety was… very nice. Eyrenni was apparently not calling her on the short moment of staring but Kalla was sure her friend hadn’t missed it. When she wanted to, that mer had eyes like a hawk!

“Just a friend I thought you should meet,” Eyrenni replied with a grin as she flung out a hand towards the pale, petite Nord decked out in black leather. “Kalla, meet Bishop! Grumpy, meet my tiny hellion of a dear friend.” Bishop cast a short, narrow-eyed glance at Eyrenni before stepping aside to clear the doorway for them.

“You could have said you were bringing someone,” he commented as the two women moved inside.

The cabin was large and airy with an open floorplan. A seating area to their right had two loveseats facing each other and a large couch between them with a wooden coffee table situated in the centre. On their left was another seating area with a U-shaped set of couches, an entertainment centre and a large flat-screen television. Behind those couches was a wall of windows that went from floor to ceiling. At the back of the cabin on the left was a kitchen area with an island to separate it from where the big Nord had his work space, complete with another bank of windows, a desk with a computer on it and a small bookshelf. Pictures of wildlife and other nature scenes hung on the muted cream coloured walls. The walls themselves had wooden panelling half way up their length. A river-stone fireplace divided the living room areas from the kitchen and work area. A wooden staircase was also on the right hand side, leading up to what Kalla guessed was his bedroom. Or maybe it was just a loft, she wasn’t entirely sure. There was a wooden door at the base of the stairs that must lead to some other rooms off the garage, or so the small Nord deduced. The lodge hadn’t looked that tall or really all that large from outside but it was clearly spacious, open, airy while still maintaining a quaint rustic charm. Overall, it was a warm, comfortable seeming place; all honey toned wood & natural earth tones. It really suited the man who called this place home.

Eyrenni simply grinned cheerily at him. “We did tell you she was coming. She wrote the message.” At Bishop’s cocked brow and pointed look, the mer blinked innocently at him. “I had both my hands on the wheel.” He snorted at her as Eyrie removed her heels --- Kalla refused to take off her black leather biker boots --- before going any further in.

“I happen to know you can multitask,” he retorted with a smirk as he shut the door behind them before leading the way into the living room. Eyrenni just smiled at his back but then cast her head towards Kalla, who was eyeing her like she had questions. Well, too bad for her, the mer wasn’t going to answer any of them. At least not right now. She had other… plans for her dear little hellion.

“He’s like a youth,” she told the small Nord amicably. “He must have the last word always.” The other woman didn’t have a chance to reply before Bishop spoke up again as he turned towards the seating area on their right but Eyrie caught the flash of her dual-coloured eyes. Good. Kalla liked a challenge, the mer knew that. A slight grin was just forming on her painted lips as she slewed her eyes back over to the big male Nord.

_Let the games begin,_ she thought with a sort of wicked delight. She could almost imagine the fireworks erupting once these two butted heads. To be a fly on the wall when that happened…

“Is beer good enough for you, ladyship?” he inquired without stopping.

“You know I never expect anything special when I come here, Bishop,” Eyrenni called back as she dropped her purse on the cushions of a loveseat before dumping herself in it. It was the most casual flop into a piece of furniture that Kalla had ever seen the mer make. There had to be history here for Eyrenni of all people to drop her elegant and proper manner. Said woman cast her crystal blue eyes onto Kalla as she sank almost cautiously down into the seat beside the Altmer who was suddenly smirking faintly. “Maybe you should ask your guest instead?”

Bishop’s head appeared around the divider, a mocking smirk upon his face. “Of course, apologies. Would you like something else to drink or are you fine with beer as well, princess?” For a second Kalla thought he’d addressed the other woman again but no, he was looking straight at her with those whiskey coloured eyes despite the sobriquet. An additional second later she realised she had yet to answer, causing her shoulders to tighten and pull backwards ever so slightly. The smirk on Bishop’s face widened just a tad, implying he’d caught the tiny movement. It caused Kalla’s embarrassment to increase slowly but surely.

She shrugged casually as she turned back around in the seat before her pale skin could betray her. And _why_ was a flush creeping up her neck anyway! She’d just met the annoying man. “If you’re old enough to actually have beer at home, that’s fine by me,” she quipped back, the Altmer’s earlier estimation of his personality coming to mind. A short bark of laughter floated back from the kitchen and she caught Eyrenni watching her with amused eyes while leaning on the armrest, jaw supported on a loose fist. A _very_ familiar smile was starting to curl her lips upwards as well. Kalla glared at her as she felt the flush, faint though it was, claim her cheeks. “Don’t even think about it, Eyrie,” she told the mer with deadly quiet, almost seeing the smart remark forming on her friend's tongue. True, the mer loved to tease her but now was so not the time for one of their whimsical verbal sparring matches.

Eyrenni’s smile turned innocent and she moved her free hand from her lap to her chest. “Hand on my heart,” she replied softly but there was laughter in those elven eyes. A very unflattering comeback floated through Kalla’s head but she would save it for later… Revenge should be sweet. And she feared there would be more things to claim revenge for as the evening wore on anyway. She’d bide her time and get Eyrie back at a later date for… whatever the mer had carefully planned _here_.

“So how do you two know each other?” Kalla settled for asking as they waited for their host to return. The fact that the mer hadn’t considered herself a guest earlier was rather telling but she wanted to hear what the mer had to say. Eyrie was ever proper, seeing to the little details of etiquette that Kalla herself usually flew right past. The other woman was obviously comfortable here, as if this were another place where she needn’t worry about such things as propriety and etiquette, which meant the mer must have some sort of relationship with the big Nord doing gods knew what in his kitchen.

“We go back a long way.” Eyrenni’s face was back to normal again as she confirmed one of Kalla’s suppositions. How the woman could switch demeanours at the drop of a hat was almost amazing but it probably came from her growing up around politicians. “I’ve known Bishop for…” There was a short pause as Eyrenni did a mental count. “Little over thirteen years now,” she added with a shrug. It was so casually delivered that it should have been taken as nothing more than them meeting up for a coffee. At first there was a squinty-eyed look levelled her way from Kalla but it soon turned into a suggestive grin and the small pale Nord’s brows began to dance.

The smaller woman received a smartly raised brow in response and a faintly haughty look as if to ask, with mock indignation; “Just what are you implying?” But then Eyrenni returned the grin, crystalline blue eyes appearing lighter as they sparkled. “If I had, would you blame me? I can tell the rump roast has your tail wiggling. Do you not feel tempted to take a bite?” she teased, causing a blush to rise upon Kalla’s cheeks not even a minute after it had died.

“Shut it. Not one more word,” the short Nord warned, glancing almost guiltily towards the kitchen, only to be rewarded by a low, throaty chuckle.

At Kalla’s raised brow, Eyrenni smiled at her, confirming the less innocent nature of those meetings. “I haven’t been seeing much of him for a good while now,” she assured the Nord. If Kalla wasn’t mistaken, and she rarely was when the information was this freely given even when it was unspoken --- she was no dunce and could put two and two together rather quickly --- what Eyrenni omitted from that statement was that Bishop didn’t share well. Good or bad? Could go either way.

However, the comment reminded Kalla that Eyrenni had been, as she put it, introduced to someone. The man was another Altmer but so far the two women hadn’t had much of a chance to speak of him in detail. Eyrenni had noted it was too early to give him an adequate judgement, this despite the fact that the introduction had taken place over half a year ago. Kalla wouldn’t say she smelled a lie as much as an evasion. She also knew Eyrenni was a good enough reader of people herself. It made the Nord assume that the other woman wasn’t ready to reveal some information about the Altmer to her before Eyrenni herself knew whether he was worth defending or not. The mer was a good friend but like all people, sometimes their thoughts and ideals just didn’t line up perfectly. That was fine. You didn’t have to agree with everyone to a hundred percent. As long as you agreed on more than half of your values, a close relationship would have a fairly easy time to flourish. Eyrenni and Kalla agreed on more than half.

“I still want to hear about all that. Or, rather, that guy you’ve been seeing,” the small Nord told the mer quietly.

Eyrenni politely inclined her head towards her friend. “All in due time,” she replied diplomatically as Kalla eyeballed her narrowly. For once there wasn’t much to read on Eyrenni’s face, posture or that she could glean from the mer’s scent --- which she had masked with a heavy perfume redolent with jasmine and other chemicals that muddled the petite Nord’s heightened sense of smell. Damn, the woman was being more careful than usual if she had resorted to that tactic.

“Just tell me one thing then,” Kalla said, looking straight at Eyrie. The Altmer’s brows rose gently towards her hairline in unspoken question. “Is he like Casavir?” Eyrenni snorted lightly and choked down a chuckle at that. The mer knew how Kalla felt about the lawyer Raina was dating but she still apparently found the almost despairing note in Kalla’s voice amusing.

“Don’t you worry your little head,” Eyrenni said with a chuckle and a shake of her own head as Bishop returned from the kitchen with a number of bottles in his hands. They were big enough that he could easily slot the necks of three bottles between the fingers of each hand. He was proportional though, just really tall and big. Something that became obvious when Kalla considered how Eyrenni was slightly on the shorter side for an Altmer. As he put the cool bottles on the low table in front of the sofa, she estimated that he had to be at least six foot five, possibly closer to six inches even when wearing shoes. “He’s not like Casavir,” the mer finished with a reassuring smile at the small Nord.

“Who isn’t?” Bishop asked with a somewhat suspicious frown at the mer who just grinned cheerily at him.

“The person I’m currently seeing.” Either the ranger was someone she included in the category of worthy of the evasive manoeuvres or it was a hint to not tattle on Eyrenni. Whichever was the case, he shrugged as he snagged one of the bottles he’d brought and popped off the lid before dropping into the other loveseat opposite the one where the two women sat.

Kalla momentarily forgot the drinks on the table, being more occupied in ogling the huge Nord’s back as he walked away from her and Eyrie --- the maroon fabric of his shirt was loose about his waist, snug across his broad shoulders and upper arms, shifting subtly with his movements. At a poke in the ribs from the mer and a waggled brow, the slight Nord snatched a beer off the table, twisted the top off and had downed half the contents by the time he was in his seat alllll the way across from them. The small woman felt a pang of regret that he didn’t try to at least sit down between them then gave herself a shake as this was a rather uncharacteristic thought for her to be having. She gave Eyrie a glance from the corners of her eyes but the mer just smiled complacently at her. Like nothing was out of the ordinary.

The glance narrowed to one of suspicion when Eyrie continued to stare back unblinkingly at her but Kalla finished her drink and was reaching for another when she was distracted by an amused laugh coming from the man seated across from her. The pale Nord’s brows shot up with her hand hovering just inches from the full unopened bottle.

“What?” she snapped self-consciously at him, ignoring Eyrie’s faint giggle next to her.

He tipped his long neck and took a leisurely pull before answering. “Nothing, princess. Just nice to see a woman who can handle her liquor and isn’t shy about it.”

Her face started to flush. “I can handle a lot of things, wolf-boy,” she shot right back, making Eyrie burst out laughing. She snagged the bottle, twisted the top and very pointedly took a long drink from it as she eyed the man with a glint of defiance in her dual-coloured eyes. Wolf-boy? What the hells?! It was the quickest thing she could think of since well, he _did_ work and live here. It just sorta… popped out.

The ranger cocked a brow at the petite pale Nord, a smirk hovering about the corners of his mouth. “Wolf-boy, huh? Eyrie tells me you’re the one that likes to howl at the moons.”

The blush that flooded Kalla’s face was beet red. She choked on her swallow of beer, turned to glare accusingly at the mer who was having a serious giggle fit right next to her while the ranger was laughing his ass off. “You did _what_?!” The words came out as a horrified squeak, albeit a very loud one.

Eyrenni leaned away at that, inserting a tapered finger into the ear closest to the tiny Nord and wiggled it in a delicate if over-exaggerated gesture, one crystalline eye closing in a slightly dramatic display of dislike of the volume which Kalla used to phrase her rhetorical question. “I’m so glad we’re out in the middle of nowhere,” she stated amiably enough. At Bishop’s cocked brow and sarcastic expression, the mer threw a deceptively sweet smile at him before continuing, “because you are loud, young lady.” A very faint but otherwise hard to miss suggestive light flitted through eyes the colour of Skyrim’s sky in summer and flashed briefly on the mer’s painted lips.

At the dual-coloured glare her friend was giving her, as if to ask ‘And what else have you told him about me?’, Eyrenni cast her an unapologetic grin and saluted her with the barely half-empty bottle in her slender hand. “Nothing incriminating, I promise.” The mer had a way with words though, able to sound perfectly sincere… but still the tiny Nord knew exactly how much honesty lay behind them. In this case, her statement was genuine but the underlying emotion was teasing, playful, causing Kalla’s eyes to narrow further; she obviously didn’t trust Eyrie’s statement nor the guileless expression the mer had affected. Kalla’s own expression just screamed ‘Uh huh, tell me another one!’ The redhead simply smiled at it as she lifted the bottle to her lips but then paused, glass lip inches from her mouth, and frowned slightly.

“Forgot something?” the big Nord drawled lazily as he leaned back, sprawling in the loveseat, clearly unconcerned about the little exchange between the two women on the opposite loveseat.

“Mm,” Eyrenni hummed as she pursed her lips, a look of distraction passing through her eyes while the foot of the leg she’d thrown of the other bounced idly before she put her bottle back onto the table, taking care to leave it on one of the little coasters with a stylised wolf’s head howling with the old shrine and namesake of the national park filling up the background. “Maybe,” she mused as she grabbed her purse next to her and started sorting through it. “Yes, I might have left it in the car.” Standing up, purse in hand, the statuesque mer threw them a lopsided grin, a cheeky light dancing in her eyes. “Don’t kill each other while I’m gone. I’ll only be a moment and hope to still see all limbs intact when I come back,” she finished with a wink at Kalla before heading towards the door and disappearing through it, closing it against any chilly breeze that sometimes chose to bombard the land without warning this high up, even in the early spring.

Kalla drug a hand through her pale curls, shoving them back from her face as she cast what was almost a sheepish look at the big man seated across from her. He caught her glance and cocked what may have been taunting brow at her. She arched one of hers sharply right back at him as she held her beer bottle between her knees so she could shed the black leather motorcycle jacket she had on. Under it was a laced cropped black leather vest, low cut to show the upper swell of her breasts. They weren’t overly large but neither were they small either; they fit her diminutive frame, giving her the appearance of lush curves even with her defined musculature and slight build. She was saved from appearing scrawny by those curves and athletic stature, he noted appreciably.

Tattoo’s covered part of her chest and her left arm, brightly coloured and striking against her porcelain skin. He caught the faint glimmer of multiple piercings in her ears, a simple ball chain around her slender throat that had a stylized tribal wolf’s head medallion hanging from it. Wide black leather studded cuff on one wrist, a bulky silver-toned watch with a black leather band on her other. No rings and she kept her nails trimmed short, no longer than the tips of her slim, tapered fingers. A definite contrast to the mer with her softer, feminine physique who had left so precipitately. This woman was obviously active and took care of herself to stay in the shape she was in.

Kalla finished her beer, was reaching for the remainder of Eyrie’s when her head abruptly snapped up, looking towards his door.

“What?” Bishop asked but the small pale Nord ignored him, rising as she went straight for it. Sighing in aggravation, he hauled himself up out of the comfortable cushions. By the time he reached her, she already had the door open and he could see Eyrie pulling out of his drive. “Dirty little mind, dirty little mind, dirty little miiiiiind!” blared from the radio along with a shredding guitar riff, growing fainter the further away the mer’s car got; which was faster by the second. Kalla wanted to run after it if only so she could strangle her friend. She was stranding her here with…

“Well shit,” Bishop muttered, amused. Then he began laughing as Kalla started swearing, even using a few words that made his amber eyes widen slightly. “Anyone ever tell you that you cuss like a sailor, princess?” he asked her mildly.

If looks could kill, he’d have been dead on the spot. “Fuck off,” she snarled at him, stomping back inside his cabin. He turned partway to watch her, deftly moving out of her way. His eyes were drawn to the swing of her hips and damn if she didn’t have another tattoo just peeking above the waist of her low-riding jeans at the small of her back, flashing from between her long, loose curls.

The ranger cleared his throat to cover his sudden urge to tug her jeans down further to get a better look at that tattoo, closing the door behind him as he wandered after the tiny walking temper. “Name the time and place. I’m willing if you are,” he told her blandly, dropping down into the couch nearest where she had resumed her seat.

“I beg your pardon?” She looked up at him, dual-coloured eyes wide and confusion plain on her face.

He folded his arms behind his head, sinking further back into the cushions as he crossed his ankles. “I said name the time and place. I’m willing if you are.”

Kalla snorted, reaching for Eyrie’s left over beer again. Once in hand, she tipped it towards him, arching one brow his way. “Bite me, wolf-boy. Not gonna happen.”

He flashed a grin at her that showed just a hint of his canines. “Don’t knock it till you try it, princess. All you gotta do is tell me when, where, how hard, and how many times.”

She snorted again, this time in mirth, one corner of her mouth quirking up as a light of humour entered her eyes, letting him know she was actually enjoying their back and forth. “So you can take directions, can you?” she quipped, swigging her beer.

He shrugged, that cocky smirk lingering around his lips. “Only when they’re ones I wanna hear.”

That did make her laugh. It made her seem much younger, look much more sweet and innocent than what he was sure she was. The young woman had a hard edge, like a well-honed blade, that he found appealing; a steely control that made him wonder what it would take to get her to let loose of it. Possibilities tumbled over each other in his head, each one more enticing than the last. He did love a challenge and Kalla… she might just be one. A long hard chase followed by a round or three of sweaty, exhausting… well, that was self-explanatory.

“So, Kalla… care to tell me why Eyrie stranded you here with me?” he kept his tone as casual as he did his body language, as if he really didn’t give a shit what her answer was.

She grinned at him, ignoring the strange little tingle that raced down her spine at his use of her name, rolling the beer bottle between her palms. “She thinks I’m too tense and need to loosen up and relax some,” was the evasive yet straight-forward answer. When he gave her an inquisitive look she met his gaze with an opaque one, her face carefully expressionless. “What?” she asked him when he remained silent.

He rubbed one brow to hide another smirk, letting his hands fall to his thighs. “That’s not much of an answer, princess.”

She shrugged indifferently and finished her beer, setting it by the other two bottles she had already emptied before she rose to her feet. He watched her as she crossed his living room, going over to the huge bank of windows that overlooked the valley below. She had a smooth walk, more of a prowl, sure-footed, light and graceful, her heavy black leather biker boots not making a sound on the hardwood floor. Her hips swayed gently, the fall of her curls just brushing over her shapely backside, drawing his attention again to the tattoo at the small of her back. It looked like some type of black tribal pattern with lilies interwoven into it and a… wolf’s head at the centre? He couldn’t be certain. He got up and followed her, curious as to why she felt so free to roam about his home.

“You live way out here all by yourself? Doesn’t the solitude… I dunno, get to be too much? Drive you crazy or something?” she asked him, glancing over her shoulder at the big Nord through the fall of her curls.

_You little flirt,_ he thought at that glance, hooking his thumbs into his jeans pockets as he stopped just a couple feet away from her. A light scent of fresh cut grass, clear spring rain and something he couldn’t quite define seemed to linger in the air around her, wholly compelling. He shrugged back at her, shifting slightly on his  bare feet to get a bit closer to her without really encroaching on her personal space. “I don’t really mind it. You get used to it,” he told her diffidently.

_Now_ that _was very telling_ , Kalla thought as she nodded slowly. It was surprising what you could get used to. He was a loner, an outcast. Just like her. Why else would he be way the fuck out here in the middle of nowhere?

That oddly made her feel better. Not that she was scared of him. She wasn’t afraid of anyone. Even if he did tower over her and made her feel especially small with his typical Nordic build. Broad shouldered, muscular but they didn’t seem bulky on him. Still, he was a big, powerful Nord, handsome even with the scars and thick stubble on his jaw. It made him oddly more attractive, a sort of wild animal beauty that Kalla found herself appreciating greatly. Golden eyes, heavy lidded, making him look like a deceptively lazy predator, waiting for his prey to get close enough so he could pounce and take it down. She felt incongruously like he had _her_ in his sights.

_Bring it on, wolf-boy, let’s see what you got_ , she thought to herself with an internal grin. If he thought she would be an easy conquest, he was going to be sadly disappointed. Ain’t no one was going to rock her boat, no siree. Regardless that Eyrie said she needed to get laid. Wasn’t going to happen and _least of all_ by this big handsome brute of a man she had only just met.

_______________________________________________

~ **_Two Hours Later ~_**

“No shit?” Bishop was laughing as he sat across his coffee table from Kalla. A bottle of whiskey and two tumblers took up space between them on the oak wood. She was sitting cross-legged on his floor, rocking back and forth as she giggled, fair cheeks flushed rosily.

Flipping curls out of her eyes with an artlessly provocative toss of her head, completely oblivious to how incredibly attractive he found that single gesture, she took her cup with a grin. “I shit you not, ranger. This guy had to be bigger than you, at least this way,” she measured about four feet around with her arms. “All brawn, no brains. So he grabs Eyrie who’d already told him, politely mind you, to piss off. But would he listen?” She gave a dramatic slow shake of her head in the negative as well as a deep sigh, making those riotous little curls of hers bounce. Picking up her tumbler, she slammed back the whiskey without so much as a cough before holding the empty glass out for him to refill; he did. With another double shot.

“I can believe it. Eyrie was always getting into trouble…” he trailed off, a veil coming down over his face and eyes that had the petite Nord cocking a brow at him to proceed and finish the thought. He tipped back his own shot before refilling his glass. “So what happened? You swoop in and rescue her?”

Kalla debated on calling him out on his evasion but let it lie. For now. She nodded again. “Yeah. I dropped the guy with a well-placed kicked, grabbed the mer and dragged her out of the bar. The rest, as they say, is history.” She slid her glass across the table to clink against the bottle, leaning back on her arms as she kicked one long leg out while keeping the other bent. The position displayed her body to its fullest, the long, lean lines of her petite frame, the softly ridged planes of her toned belly with the little silver loop piercing her tattooed navel. He shifted in his seat, wishing his jeans were a size or two bigger; if the hellion across from him noticed the movement, she didn’t give any indication. “Speaking of history…” she trailed off, a smirk lurking at the corners of her wide, full lips and the light of mischief dancing in her dual-coloured eyes.

“Ahhh forget it, princess. I’m not drunk enough to fall for that,” he chided her teasingly with a grin that flashed his canines at her and made his amber eyes seem to glow.

She liked that, his eyes. They reminded her of golden honey and long, lazy afternoons out in the sun; warm things that made you melt and sent tendrils of heat shimmering over your skin. But she shrugged good naturedly with an answering grin. “Worth a shot. And speaking of shots, pour me another, would ya?”

Both the ranger’s brows rose towards his hairline but he obliged. The woman could drink _and_ hold her liquor; they’d almost finished the bottle together and she’d matched him shot for shot as well as her having had two beers on her own and polishing off Eyrie’s half a bottle. That was impressive. If he was feeling a bit of a buzz, considering how small she was, she must nearly be drunk but she sure didn’t seem like it.

“All right.” Kalla sat forward, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms loosely about them. “Enough of twenty questions. How about another game?”

Bishop leered, glass halfway to his mouth. “If it involves nakedness and interesting positions I haven’t done, I’m down for it, princess.”

Kalla pursed her lips slightly, tipping her head a fraction to the side as her eyes narrowed speculatively on him. She looked like she was actually considering his suggestion! He’d made it as a joke --- ok, so maybe he was being mostly serious when he made it --- and she was _actually_ thinking about it. He shifted in his seat again, resisting the urge to press the heel of a hand against the tightening denim of his crotch. She really shouldn’t look at him like that if she wasn’t going to do anything about the ‘problem’ she was giving him. Dammit.

The grin that plastered itself across her deceptively innocent features was anything but. It was just this side of down-right wicked. “So are there?” she asked him, perhaps with a hint of flirtation.

A frown drew his thick brows together in momentary confusion. “Are there… what?”

“Any positions you don’t know,” she replied blithely, blinking her large, dual-coloured eyes, attempting to affect an air of sweetness to both her expression and the tone of her lightly accented voice.

Bishop ground his teeth, narrowing his eyes on the hellion. “Minx,” he all but growled, making her snigger.

She actually batted her lashes at him, lowering her head to let the wings of her hair swing forward to obscure her face. She peeked at him through the thickets, the veil of her long, thick black lashes. “Me? Tsk, surely not. I would _never_ do such a thing,” she cooed at him with false sweetness.

“Somehow I don’t believe you,” he responded dryly, trying his damnedest to keep from smiling. But it was hard. He really enjoyed her irreverent attitude and cheeky wit.

Kalla laughed, tossing her head back and making her curls fly. “I don’t believe me either, ranger. So how about it? Truth or dare. Wanna play?”

“I always wanna play, darlin’,” came out as a low, almost sultry rumble that had her sitting up straight and a chill that had nothing to do with the weather racing down her spine – for one, they were inside his well-insulated cabin and secondly, the sun was still just above the mountain tops she could see out the bank of windows. Lastly but certainly not least, the look he was giving her with those beguiling amber eyes could have melted an iceberg into nothing but a puddle and then evaporated the puddle. Yee gods.

_Ooo dayum, I like the sound of that,_ she thought but quickly quashed it. _Get your shit together, girl! The man is trouble with a capital T. Not something you need._ Sadly, that was true. Feeling a pang of remorse over that fact, Kalla ran a hand through her hair, tucking curls behind her softly-pointed and heavily pierced ears, trying to buy herself time to come up with something that would shift the topic. She never got the chance.

Bishop grinned at her, sitting forward to rest his elbows on his knees as he regarded her over his laced fingers. “Sabrecat got your tongue there, princess, or have I suddenly made you speechless?”

“You wish, wolf-boy!” popped out of Kalla’s mouth before she could stop it. She met his gaze defiantly with her chin lifted and her slender shoulders squared. _Dammit, dammit, dammit! You walked right into that one,_ the cautious, rational part of her brain was screaming at her. _Who the fuck cares? Have some fun!_ the much older and stifled part of her was shouting just as loudly. A grinning white wolf thrust its head into view, long pink tongue lolling. Kalla shoved all the voices and the wolf aside.

His grin grew, turning almost cocky, eyes gone to brilliant golden slits. “Oh I don’t wish, darlin’, I _know_ I could.”

“HA! Don’t make me laugh,” she scoffed, trying to keep from smirking. _Brain just stooop with the mental imagery, I don’t neeeed it,_ she argued silently with herself as her vivid imagination presented her with a scenario that didn’t seem… humanly possible. Could the body even really contort that way? Sheesh. Maybe Eyrie was right and she _was_ seriously deprived and just needed to get laid.

He sat back amid the cushions, draping his long arms along the back of the couch; as if he were displaying his body for her perusal. And what a body it was! She just barely managed to keep from biting her bottom lip at the enticing picture he posed just then; like he was inviting her to crawl up into his lap and stay there… Or do other things. Kalla swallowed heavily, curling her fingers in towards her palms to hide any tell-tale flash of claws that may have sprouted as her beast started to creep closer again.

“I’d do more than make you laugh, _that_ I promise you,” he told her with no false modesty in that same low sultry rumble.

Heat was starting to creep up into her cheeks but she didn’t back down. She met and held his gaze even as she glared at the white wolf in her head. “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep, bud. They may come back to bite you in your arse.”

He smirked lazily. “You going to be the one to bite me, princess?” he drawled.

She smirked back, remaining silent for a few moments on purpose. He didn’t know how true his statement was; _if_ she bit him, that would be the least of his worries and hers, especially if she ended up shifting skins on him. She didn’t even want to contemplate what a disaster that would be. When she didn’t answer, he arched a challenging brow at her. “Maybe,” she finally admitted, reaching again for her tumbler of whiskey as the wolf in her head looked like it was laughing at her.

_______________________________________________

**_~ Another Hour and Another Half a Bottle of Whiskey Later ~_ **

They sat across from each other in nothing but their underwear; Kalla in her tiny black bra that threatened to spill her breasts out with her next breath and black not-quite-opaque boyshort panties and him in his dark brown boxer briefs. The rest of their clothing was in a careless pile next to the coffee table. The petite Nord was a bit glassy eyed and swayed slightly where she sat on the floor across from him, her cheeks dusky pink. He, on the other hand, was still mostly sober. Sort of. Kinda. Not really but he wasn’t nearly as tipsy as the wee fiend who was grinning at him.

“What’d I shoose?” she asked him, her words a bit slurred.

“Dare,” he told her succinctly.

“Hummmm,” she hummed, rocking a bit harder from side to side. “All right. Hit me, ranger.”

Now was his chance. He took it and ran. “Get over here and kiss me.”

She blinked, clearly surprised. Her cheeks turned a brighter shade of pink as her dual-coloured eyes went round. “What?”

He sat back, sinking into the cushions of the couch and patted his knee invitingly. “You heard me. I said comere and kiss me.”

She started giggling but stopped when he didn’t laugh too. “You’re fucking serious?” she sounded incredulous.

“Dead serious, princess. Put your money where your mouth is.” He grinned at her, arching both his brows. “Or better yet, put yours on mine.”

Those eyes, one just like bright spring green leaves, the other a brilliant blue, narrowed on him but not maliciously. More like she was really trying to decide if he was just fucking with her or was being absolutely serious. He stared right back, crooking a finger at her. _Game, set and match,_ he thought in satisfaction when she rose unsteadily to her feet. She teetered but stayed upright. One step, two, three and she was close enough he could smell the scent of her. Another step and…

She was falling. Bishop leapt to his feet, caught Kalla in his arms before she could hit the ground, clutching her to his chest as his heart thundered in his ears. “Shit, are you ok?” he asked her anxiously, hastily brushing curls from her flushed face.

Kalla smiled at him, her eyes half-closed. It was a very soft, sweet smile that made his heart beat even faster than it had been. It did the strangest things to him. An answering smile tugged up the corners of his mouth. He smoothed a hand over her hair again, letting the wild, unruly curls tangle around his fingers; they slid like silken strands between them.

“You smell really good,” she murmured, lifting a hand to lay her palm gently against his scarred and stubbled cheek. And just as he was leaning down with the intention of claiming his kiss from her, she was out cold.

Dammit. Looks like letting her have at his other bottle of whiskey had been a bad idea after all.

_______________________________________________

**_~ The Next Morning; 11:49 a.m. Loredas ~_ **

“Time to get up, morning glory! Rise and shine!”

The voice was deep, masculine, loud enough to cut through the ringing in her ears and the pounding in her head. Kalla was momentarily disoriented, unable to remember where she was or how she got there. The place smelled unfamiliar but not unpleasant; leather, cedar and oak, wood polish, the wool from the blanket that was covering her head, wood smoke, pine, alcohol and faintly of musky male underlying it all. Definitely not her little studio apartment on the rougher side of Solitude.

_Shit, did I go get drunk and end up at some random guy's place?_ she thought, hoping that if that were the case, she could make a hasty exit. She didn’t really believe that’s what had happened; Kalla wasn’t the type for one night stands, as a rule, nor was she of a promiscuous nature. But it sure as Oblivion would explain why she was… where she was. Wherever that happened to be.

Something or someone yanked the blanket off of her, making bright light pierce her sensitive eyes. She groaned as the pounding in her head grew worse, covering her face with one arm while reaching for the absconded blanket with her free hand.

Bishop twitched it just out of her reach, almost but not quite laughing. He couldn’t help from grinning though. Kalla looked like she’d had a rough night of it. Her pale curls were rioting all over her head, sticking out in several directions and fly-away with static electricity. Her dual coloured eyes, that he’d seen before she covered them, were bloodshot and red rimmed, her lips looking like they were slightly swollen. She was rumpled, groggy and still incredibly attractive.

“Get up, princess. It’s almost noon,” he told her, stepping back out of retaliatory range… Just in case.

“Fuck off, ranger, I see daylight,” she grumbled at him, flopping over onto her stomach and putting the pillow over her head.

He choked back on his mirth, briefly entertaining the thought he had to smack her backside thus displayed but folded the blanket and tossed it across the foot of the couch instead; he’d left her sleeping on it after she had passed out in his arms the night before. He’d been sorely tempted to bring her up to his bed but the thought of climbing all those stairs in the condition they’d both been in at the time had been daunting. So he’d laid her down on the couch, covered her and lain down at the opposite end. Sometime during the night, the wee fiend had found her way over to him and had laid herself across his chest like she was imitating his own blanket. After that, she had snuggled against him, tucking her head under his chin and onto his shoulder and gone back to sleep, leaving him blinking in bewilderment at her.

Generally, when he had female company, they didn’t do any actual sleeping together, being much more interested in other activities that were done naked between the sheets. This… well, it was odd, was what it was. It had been almost too much of a temptation for him to resist. Just one little tug in the right spot and that tiny black bra of hers would have sprung open baring her breasts. Somehow, Divines only _knew_ how, he’d kept his hands to himself, just kept one arm wrapped around Kalla’s back to prevent her from falling onto the floor.

She, on the other hand, had _not_ kept her hands to herself. While she’d still been asleep, she’d laid one on his chest, fingers tracing through the thick dusting of mahogany hairs before dipping lower. He’d caught it just before she crossed into the danger zone. He wasn’t altogether certain she hadn’t known exactly what she was going even if she had looked like she was still asleep and completely unaware of what she was doing.

He reached over the back of the couch and snatched the pillow from her grasp before she had a chance to prepare to prevent it. He rocked the couch a bit, like he was going to dump her off of it and onto the floor. “Get up, sunshine. It’s a nice day out. Thought I’d take you with me for a hike.”

“Hike this,” the tiny hellion growled, flipping him off as she sat up on the edge of the cushions. She sank her head into her hands and he almost felt bad she looked so miserable.

He swallowed back a laugh but she must have heard it or something because she sat up and turned part way to give him a dirty look. He cocked a taunting brow at her.

“ _How_ are you even on your feet after last night? I mean, shit, I’m no light-weight but…”

He grinned, displaying his even white teeth with the slightly longer more forward canines. “There’s a lot I can do on my feet,” he told her cheerfully. When the blush started to creep up into her cheeks and her eyes had narrowed on him, he continued, “and even more I can do off them.”

Shaking her head at him, she then caught it between her hands with another groan. He finally took pity on her. Going to his desk and opening the top drawer he fished out a small package of pain relievers and snagged a bottle of water on his way past the kitchen. Returning to Kalla, who hadn’t moved from her sitting position on the edge of the couch with her head held between her hands, he sat down on the coffee table in front of her, holding the medicine and water out for her to take. She didn’t even seem to notice.

Before he could have second thoughts, he ran his fingers through her hair, brushing it back from her face. “Hey. Are you ok?” he asked her quietly, dipping his head down to try to catch her gaze.

“No,” she muttered, lifting at least her eyes to his. Even red-rimmed and bloodshot, they were still striking. “My head feels like it’s ready to roll off my shoulders and bounce across the floor. But thanks for asking.”

Bishop snorted at that, placing the packet and water into her hands. “Take those. The water should help. Hang-overs are caused ---”

“By dehydration. I know.” She broke open the packet, tossed the pills into her mouth and washed them down with the water, finishing half the bottle in one go.

He still hadn’t removed his hand from her hair; it rested on one of her shoulders, her curls trapped between his fingers. Her skin was warm but not feverish he judged, soft against his own. They sat there, staring at each other, caught in the spell that the casual contact had cast. What broke the silence was Kalla’s stomach growling loud enough he could hear it. Her cheeks immediately turned bright pink, making him laugh.

“All right, guess I better feed you. Come on, princess.” He rose to his feet in front of her, heading towards his kitchen without bothering to wait and see if she would follow him or not. When he glanced over his shoulder, she was directly behind him, less than a foot away. Damn, he hadn’t even heard her. The way she could move so silently was almost uncanny and made him wonder where she had learned to do it.

He opened his freezer and Kalla placed a hand casually on his back so she could get on her tiptoes to peer around his shoulder. Electricity raced down his spine at the unexpected contact, even making his scalp tingle. He wondered idly if such a simple thing as that gave him the reaction it did, what a more purposeful touch might do, say lower down, maybe. It was a very appealing thought.

“Not a bowl of cereal type of guy, are ya?” the wee fiend commented, dual-coloured eyes teasing as she looked over the packages of meat stacked neatly. She even had a smile hovering around the corners of her wide, full lips.

He grabbed a larger package out, tossing it to his counter, smiling a bit himself. “Not really, no. That a problem?”

“Nope.” She went over to poke at what he’d laid out. “What is it?”

“A roast for tonight. Figure I could drop it in the pot to cook while we went for that hike.” He stopped, cocking a brow at Kalla as her face started to slowly suffuse with colour again. What on Nirn? “You look like a ripe tomato. Did I say something wrong?”

“Not… exactly,” she sounded like she was choking back laughter.

He frowned. This woman was so fucking weird. He had no idea what was going through that head of hers but it was very obviously funny as hells, at least to her. He grabbed out a package of steaks and tossed them down beside the roast before he turned towards her, folding his arms across his chest with a scowl aimed her way.

The little fiend grinned, blinking innocently up at him. “What?” she asked him coyly, trying that sweet and innocent expression on him again.

“What do you mean, ‘what’?” He narrowed his eyes on her. There was no way he was going to let her win here and get out of telling him just what had made her blush like that. “You know ‘what’. Spill it, princess.”

She started sniggering. He had the strangest urge to strangle her, laugh right along with her and simply just kiss her to shut her up. All at the same time. What the fuck?! He actually growled at her. She stood up straight, stopped her laughing and was staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights. That was an interesting reaction. Her eyes had gone heavy-lidded as well, her lips pursing just the tiniest bit after her initial response.

Hmmm. Testing a theory, Bishop stepped up close to Kalla, reached out and curved a hand around the back of her neck, drawing her even closer as he leaned down at the same time. Her hands settled on his chest as she tipped her head back, eyes narrowing still further. His lips touched the soft point of one of her ears and he growled again. She shivered with a small “yeee”. He even felt her skin ripple into gooseflesh under his fingers. Score one for him.

“Easy there, wolf-boy,” she told him, her light voice gone husky, as she took a step away from him. “We’ve only just met yesterday. I’m not that type of girl.”

That was both frustrating and actually a good thing to hear. Bishop grinned. “I like a challenge,” he threw right back at her, crossing his arms again as he let her back away.

She arched her brows at him, smoothing her palms over his upper arms to his shoulders, almost like she was holding him at bay. “Hope you’re up for it.” She peeked at him from behind her lowered lashes and tangled curls before her gaze dipped purposely lower. She touched the tip of her tongue to the centre of her bottom lip, seemed to shrug a little, more a rolling of her slender shoulders, then flashed a wickedly teasing grin up at him, her eyes bright.

“I’m up for just about anything, princess,” he told her, one corner of his mouth lifting very faintly, amber eyes gone a shade or two darker as he gave her a leisurely once over. Just like he was trying to decide if she could handle him. He hadn’t missed her look either but decided to let the little hellion think she had the upper hand for a while longer. He’d show her otherwise soon enough; when the time was right.

Kalla just took another step back, humming softly to herself, the expression on her deceptively sweet face ingenuous. All large innocent-seeming eyes with full lips curving in a very subtle smile; her mouth was almost too wide but was saved by its shape. The corners tucked in slightly, making her look like she was either ready to laugh or kiss you at any second. It was oddly charming and was one of the first things he’d noticed about her, besides those striking eyes and her porcelain pale colouring.

And now here she stood in his kitchen, and they were having that back and forth again. He wasn’t normally a man that was easy to get to know but her open, friendly personality had set him almost immediately at ease with her. Even if she did have a sharp tongue to go along with that sharp wit of hers. It was… entertaining. He found himself relaxing around her, a luxury he hadn’t afforded himself in… well, since Eyrie.

“Do you even know how to cook are you just one of those guys who tosses everything together and hope it comes out edible?”

The question took him unawares; his brows shot up. “Pardon?”

“Cook,” Kalla motioned towards the counter. “Can. You. Cook,” she enunciated carefully.

He snorted as he turned back towards the counter, giving the tiny fiend his back. “Can I cook?” he echoed her pointed question. “Careful, princess, before you end up on the menu,” he told her while opening the packaging of the steaks.

At the odd sound behind him, he glanced over his shoulder to find Kalla blushing from her bosom to her hairline. He grinned at her with a flash of canines, pulled one of the knives from the stand on the counter and flipped it before turning back to what he was doing. That ought to give her something to think about, he thought with amused satisfaction.

_______________________________________________

**_~ A Couple of Hours Later; ap. 3:19 p.m. ~_ **

Kalla watched Bishop’s broad shoulders as he walked in front of her, taking one of the paths he knew of like a damned mountain goat. Their very late breakfast had been as much fun to cook together as much as it had been companionable to share it. She honestly couldn’t recall the last time she’d had such fun with someone, let alone someone of the opposite gender. There’d been more joking, more idle flirtation. He’d even snapped her on the rear with a towel as they were putting away their dishes, telling her she was getting in his way. She’d neatly snagged the towel from him and before she knew it they’d been wrestling and laughing like a couple of kids for it.

The ranger had won by the expediency of his greater size. Maybe she could have out-done him with brute strength because of the scientists messing with her DNA but she’d learned long ago to temper it. A human woman of her size and build, even muscular and fit as she was, couldn’t hope to over-power the big Nord walking in front of her. But she wasn’t completely human, not anymore. Kalla shifted her shoulders a trifle nervously; being out here in the wilds only excited the beast inside of her. The clear open sky, the scents of nature all around. Pine, maple, oak, cedar, leaf mould, grass and wild flowers all mingled together in a heady perfume borne on the cool late afternoon early spring breeze. Her wolf was in ecstatics, running about in the darkness of her mind and chasing butterflies like a flipping loon.

“Where are we headed?” she finally asked the ranger after a couple of hours of silence. Truth be told, she was a little irritated that he just expected her to tag along after him without so much as a word from him as to… well, anything. He’d seemed so interested in her before that now his apparent sudden ambivalence was just confusing.

“Hot spring,” Bishop actually answered her. “It showed up one day out of the blue a few years back. Just another mile to go, I think.” He shaded his eyes, looking up at the sun’s position through the trees. “We’ve got enough time to make it there and back before sunset. Come on, princess, and try to keep up.”

Kalla snorted, rolling her eyes then lengthened her stride. She soon drew even with the ranger then passed him by completely. She could almost swear she could feel him grinning at her back like the ass he was.

He watched the few long, loose curls sway against her leather jacket as Kalla pulled ahead of him. The rest she had twisted up into a messy knot at the back of her head, making him want to tug it back down if only to see the sunlight play in the riotous mass of ringlets. That tattoo he’d glimpse the night before was flashing again right between the waist of her blue jeans and bottom of her jacket. He let his eyes wander over her hips, down to her rear. Damn, those pants of hers couldn’t get any tighter; they already looked like they could have been painted on her they fit her so snugly. Still, wearing all that leather out hiking was bound to get uncomfortable sooner or later. Early spring or not, the days were warm with the sun beating down on you and with the hiking they were doing…

“If you get too hot, toss me your jacket and I’ll put it in my pack. Do you no good to get heat exhaustion,” he offered.

She actually stopped, turning to look at him a bit suspiciously. Seeing nothing in his expression to suggest he was going to be a dick or was being anything other than civil and polite, she shrugged out of her cropped motorcycle jacket. “Thanks. Here.” She handed it over for him to do what he said he would. He stuck it in the pack he carried, moving the Emergency First Aid kit to the top again.

“No problem.” Closing the rucksack, he slung it back on. “How’s your head?” He could have kicked himself for how that came out but she was already grinning at him. Either she was enjoying his slip or was amused at his phrasing.

Kalla rubbed her brow, her grin only widening as she gave him a sideways glance. “No complaints,” she answered him wryly, dual-coloured eyes dancing merrily as she let him take her response how he wanted.

Oh, she was so going to pay for that! Adjusting the shoulder straps of the pack, he started walking again, passing her by. He barely heard her soft laughter behind him as he silently cursed her for torturing him with that mental image.

Not even half an hour later, they were at the hot spring; it wasn’t really a hot spring by the standard definition, the water being just warm enough to be pleasant while not hot enough to burn. Bunches of lavender, red, blue and purple wild flowers as well as a few scattered snowberry bushes grew up around its edges. It was shaded by a small stand of tall pines that dropped their needles onto the ground around it. Wild waterlilies, lily pads and cat-tails sprouted near the bank and floated lazily on the calm, crystal clear surface. The bottom was soft white sand and pebbles. It couldn’t have been more than ten or twelve feet deep, maybe twice as wide across. There was even a shelf of granite that thrust out over the water, inviting hikers to sit and enjoy the scenery.

Bishop climbed up to the shelf and sat down at the edge, his booted feet dangling not even a foot above the still surface, and shrugged out of the pack. He dug out two bottles of water and tossed Kalla one. She caught it neatly, clambering up after him. He offered her a hand once she got close enough and after she took it, he helped her up the last few feet before tugging her over to sit beside him. She gave him a sort of curious glance but sat almost shoulder to shoulder with him.

A couple of crows dodged past, squawking, pursued by some bright blue jays. Other than that, it was quiet and peaceful here, only the soft burble of the spring to break the silence. The two of them sat there for a time, not feeling the need for idle chatter. Kalla set her bottle of water beside her and leaned back on her arms, tipping her face up towards the azure sky where white clouds floated like puffs of tundra cotton. The sun felt good on her shoulders, warming her scalp through her hair. She could see the ranger’s attraction for living out in the middle of nowhere.

No one to bother you, no noise or stink from a busy city. She’d thought about doing that a time or two since her escape. Disappearing into the wilds, never to be heard or seen from again. She couldn’t quite say why she never did it. Maybe that it seemed too much like running to her was a reason. One of them anyway. Another was because she wouldn’t let anyone or anything dictate her life. She lived it on her own terms; even if those terms’d had to be renegotiated because of survival reasons.

“You think any louder and I’ll be able to hear you, princess,” Bishop’s deep, teasing voice cut through her thoughts.

Kalla glanced at him, drawing her knees up to her chest and folding her arms atop them. “I think I understand why you like it out here.”

He arched a partially inquiring and partially sceptical brow at her. “Do you?”

She nodded, her hair finally loosening from its knot of its own accord to tumble down her around her shoulders. She tucked strands behind her softly-pointed ears before leaning back on her arms again. “Yeah. I do. It’s peaceful. Quiet. No one around to bug the shit out of you.”

“That’s true,” he conceded. He fell silent again for a little bit. Then, “And you still owe me.”

“Owe you?” Kalla sat up, running her hands through her hair as the breeze blew it into her face. Her puzzlement was clear as she turned to look at him.

He had one leg bent, hands folded over that knee as he left the other to dangle over the edge of the shelf. The sun sparked gold and copper in his hair, making it look like rich burnished coins. He was watching her from the corners of his amber eyes, a smile just ghosting over the lower half of his face. “Yeah. Or have you forgotten your dare?”

Understanding dawned; the kiss. Had he gotten it? She couldn’t remember. Dammit. Kalla’s eyes went round then a heartbeat later they narrowed on him. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Not even a little bit.” He was starting to grin. “You afraid?”

“No. But you should be, wolf-boy.” What had she been thinking the night before? Oh yeah, that the man was incredibly hot and his deep, slightly rough voice ruffled over her like thunder and he smelled so good; pine, damp earth, wood smoke, musky male and something that might have been leather as well as a faint trace of snow. That he’d looked damned good in nothing but his underwear and why did he wear them anyway? He should go naked. _Dammit, brain! STOP!_

He wasn’t daunted. He reached for her and Kalla skittered to the side to avoid him. And tumbled right over the edge of the rock into the spring below. Bishop leapt over the edge of the shelf himself, dashing down to the bank to see if she was all right. He found her emerging from the water as he came to a halt; it ran in crystal rivulets down over the taut planes of her body. Her long hair was completely soaked, clinging to her curves; she looked like the resident protectress of the spring, a creature from myth and legend, what with her dual-coloured eyes and fair colouring. A child of ice and snow and high mountain expanses and deep wooded secret places.

“You know, princess, if you wanted to get wet, there are other ways to go about it,” he chided her teasingly, unslinging the pack from his back to dig out her jacket. He held it out to her as she slogged through the shallows and up onto the leafy shore with him.

“You give yourself far too much credit, wolf-boy,” she growled at him, snatching her jacket out of his hands and shrugging it on. She pulled her sopping mass of curls out from under the leather and proceeded to try to wring some of the water from them. “Don’t think for one second you had any effect on me whatsoever.”

The ranger folded his arms across his chest with a smug, completely self-assured grin. “If I didn’t have some type of effect on you then you wouldn’t be running from me all the time.”

Kalla settled her jacket with sharp little jerks, tugging it closed and folding her own arms across her chest, purposely mimicking the ranger’s stance. She cocked a defiant, challenging brow at him. “Do you see me running?”

Taking one big step, he came to stand in front of her. So close she had to tip her head back to meet his eyes, could smell that warm, enticing scent of his, feel his body heat. He lifted a hand, placed it lightly at the dip of her waist where her skin was exposed. She dropped her arms, rocking back slightly on her heels, her entire body stiffening. Her nostrils flared delicately, her pupils dilated as he moved even closer, purposely invading her personal space. His other hand glided upwards over her arm, along her shoulder until he could grasp her lightly at the back of her neck to keep her from pulling away and escaping.

Bishop lowered his head, stopping right before his lips met hers. Kalla hadn’t so much as moved then just as suddenly, she was grabbing the front of his shirt, tugging him down the last few inches and pressed her mouth hard against his. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through him, his arms encircling her to haul her up onto her toes, her body flush against his own. Her fingers sank into the short hair at the back of his head, fisting. But just as suddenly as she had initiated the kiss, she was breaking it.

“What do you call that?” he asked her, amber eyes gone dark as he still held her against him.

“Giving you your damned prize for the dare. What did you think it was?” she snapped back at him.

He shook his head slowly, tangling his hand in her hair. “That wasn’t a real kiss, princess. Let’s try this again.”

His mouth claimed hers, making her squeak in surprise. She pushed at his shoulders but he was holding her so tightly it was ineffectual. The feel of his tongue, tracing along her bottom lip, made her eyelids flutter and her breath come short. It was like he was asking permission while at the same time overwhelming her with his greater size, strength and raw masculinity. He was sleek power, hard muscles against her, under her hands. Warmth that cut through the chill as the water dried on her skin. The woman in her answered, her lips parting as she melted against him with a soft murmur of pleasure. Bishop’s tongue delved deep, stroking her own in invitation. She reciprocated, twining with his, dancing, taking her time and letting him take his. Her arms slipped about his shoulders as he lifted her completely off her feet with one of those growls that sent a shiver racing up her spine.

The ranger actually managed to coax a low moan from her as he kissed her more possessively, more passionately, than she’d ever been kissed before. It was both threat and promise; threat that if she chose to keep going, he would too and match her. And a promise that he would make damned sure to give her a night she wouldn’t soon forget. The rational part of her brain was screaming at her to stop; that other part, the part that remembered what a man’s kiss tasted like, what his body felt like against hers with no barriers between, was just as loud at insisting she take this moment and hold onto it with both hands and enjoy it for as long as it lasted.

She never wanted it to end. Kalla lifted her legs, surrendering her weight to Bishop as she wrapped them around his lean hips. His hands roamed down over her back to cup her bottom and hold her move closely, so close she could feel the heavy weight of his erection pressing against the centre of her body that had started to ache. And all the while, he kissed her, tongue sweet and restless as it stroked her own. The man definitely knew what he was doing. He nipped lightly at her lips with another of those growls that made her belly flutter and sent the chills racing over her. She wanted to rub herself against him, just like a cat and honestly, she didn’t know how she stopped herself from doing just that.

His mouth found its way to the tender juncture of her neck and shoulder. She held him all the closer, tipping her head to the side with a soft murmur of pleasure. His teeth sank delicately into her skin in the barest of nips, making her shiver.

“I could just eat you up,” he told her in that sultry rumble like thunder, breath warm against her ear.

She pulled back, far enough she could meet his amber gaze. She laid a palm softly against his scarred cheek, thumb tracing below his eye. “The feeling is entirely mutual, wolf-boy.”

He growled again, the light in his eyes promising her he would do just that, once he got her back to his cabin.

_________________________________________________________

In the advent, that didn’t happen. The heat of the day had given way to the chill of evening and the ranger had insisted she take a shower, if only to keep from getting hypothermia. Kalla had protested, saying she had no clothes to change into and she ran on the hot side anyway. He’d ignored her comment, grinned and disappeared only to reappear a few minutes later, tossing a white crew-neck tee her way. She’d glared down at the shirt, huffed at him, retreated into his bathroom which was upstairs in his bedroom style loft and shut the door in his face so she wouldn’t have to see that pleased smug smirk on his handsome face.

A tee-shirt! He was expecting her to walk around his cabin in nothing but a tee-shirt? Nevermind the fact that it would likely swallow her whole; she’d have to go completely bare under it. No panties, no bra. Nada. The thought alone was enough to make her cover her face. Which was the wrong thing to do seeing as the white cotton in her hands seemed to be saturated with his scent. With an aggravated sigh, she tossed it onto the sink and proceeded to strip out of her still-damp clothing. She’d be lucky her leather vest and jeans didn’t end up completely ruined. That brought to mind what had happened after her ignominious swim; the price of one leather vest, one pair of blue jeans and one pair of expensive biker boots were well, _well_ worth it, she decided, the ghost of a grin curving her lips.

Finished stripping down, she stepped naked into his shower, adjusting the water to just this side of scalding. What was it Eyrie had said? Live a little more, care a little less? Well, she could try, for the next few hours anyway. Then, well…

She’d likely never see the ranger again.

For some odd reason, that made Kalla feel a pang of sadness. All personal reservations aside, she was beginning to really like the guy, even after such a short acquaintance. He was intelligent, quick-witted, sharp-tongued, funny, was just so… so… grrr. He actually made her want to jump him until they were both sweaty, exhausted and couldn’t walk. But more than that… he made her breathless with just a single kiss. Who’da thunk? Her resolve fell another notch as she relived that kiss over in her imagination. The way he had held her, so close like he’d meant to take her right there on the forest floor. The feel of his body against hers, all hard muscle and sleek sinewy strength that made her want to strip him naked and explore every inch of his tanned skin in minute detail. The power in that big Nordic frame as he had lifted her clear off her feet. Good gods. And the look in his amber eyes. As if the rest hadn’t been enough of an enticement, just the heat in his gaze could have set the entire sanctuary on fire and burnt it to cinders.

No man had ever looked at her like that. Not even her ex-husband.

Kalla turned, placing her hands against the cool tiling of the wall as she let the water wash over her. That was years ago, gone, done and over with. No use crying over spilled milk, as the saying went. Jakob had been one of her more phenomenal mistakes. Part of her was still sorry she hadn’t actually killed him but she’d come close enough that it had gotten her into some really deep shit.

She snorted softly. Boy, was that an understatement.

The both of them had been military. That was how they had met. She’d thought it could have been love but what it had been was lust. Plain and simple. She’d beaten the snot out of him in basic training and that had been enough to pique his interest in her. Barely topping six feet, in reasonably good shape, dark haired, dark eyed, Jakob was a good-looking man. But that beauty only went skin-deep. He was incredibly selfish and self-conscious about her being better at… well, everything, than he was. They’d both tried out for Special Forces at the same time. _He_ had been rejected while she had been accepted.

He’d tried to get her to reject the offer, knowing that if he could talk her into it, they might just accept him in her stead. Kalla had balked. Jakob had backhanded her. Kalla had lost her shit and almost beaten him to death. Ahhh, the fond memories of the court martial. Not. If it hadn’t been for that asshole, she wouldn’t have ended up as… she now was.

Not quite human, not all wolf, she was something in-between. Only one other person outside of the scientists and others in the Bloodmoon project knew what she was but that was borne out of necessity. She’d needed a new identity after she had escaped the lab. Eyrenni Balacyr had been just the mer to see to it.

She leaned her forehead against the wall, wishing fruitlessly that the water could wash away her past as easily as it did the grime on her body. To be human again, to not have to live the way she did, always afraid of getting close to another living soul for fear they would find out what she was and turn her in. It sucked to be alone all the time. Sure, she had Eyrie but even the mer feared her and what she was. Kalla’s entire family thought she was dead and that was done for their own safety as well as her own. No matter how much she wanted to, she could never go home again.

She reflected, not for the first time and certainly not for the last, that life just wasn’t fair. But no one ever said it would be.

_______________________________________________

Bishop could hear the water running in his bathroom but other than that, there was silence. He could no more stop his mind from imagining what Kalla looked like without her clothes on, the water cascading down over her lithe, lean body, than he could have stopped the sun from rising. He hadn’t tasted attraction like this in a long time, not since he had been a younger man with a certain redheaded elfish distraction. Hot-headed, hot-blooded and reckless the two of them had been. It had been a lot of fun while it lasted. Unfortunately, it hadn’t been meant to be and they had fallen into occasional meetings and a friendship that spanned a good decade.

Now that very same mer had dumped a tiny Nord with a temper that was at least ten times her size almost literally on his door step. What’d Eyrie expect them to do all weekend? Play board games? HA! She knew him better than that and after he’d gotten it out of Kalla that Eyrie thought she needed to “unwind and relax” and he was just the man to help her with that, the outcome was obvious. He’d have been pissed at the mer if he didn’t find Kalla so…

Intriguing, infuriating, tempting, take your pick. All of them applied. The woman resisted him but how long could she really keep that up? She was attracted, he could tell that plainly. The way she watched him when she thought he wasn’t looking, the faint blush that stained her fair cheeks every time their eyes met, the way she stood just a little too close to him than was proper. Then the way she had reacted when he had gone to kiss her the first time. Oh, he didn’t mean when she had passed out on him. He meant when he had leaned down and stopped just before their lips met. She’d grabbed a hold of him and near pulled him off his feet. Her eagerness had come as a welcome surprise after he’d called her out for evading him, even if the chaste kiss had left him wanting more.

And he’d gotten it. She was like a whole other woman in his arms. He honestly liked how much freer she had been and not just because he’d gotten what he wanted. She hid that passionate nature of hers behind sharp comments and barbs but once gotten beyond those…

That was it. He couldn’t take any more. Grabbing a towel as an excuse he opened his bathroom door and stepped inside, only to be assaulted by a billow of steam full in his face. All he could see were white clouds and it was hot enough in here that sweat sprang up almost immediately on his skin.

“Hey!” Kalla’s startled voice rang out loud in the tiled room as she whirled in his direction.

She was barely discernible from the vapour, almost the same colour. The glass of the shower door was fogged, obscuring her body from his view. Well, dammit. He held up the towel to show her.

“Thought you might need one of these, princess.”

“Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”

He smirked at her lightly chastising tone, cocking a brow at her as he closed the door to lean against it. Folding his arms across his chest, he let his eyes wander over what he could see of her --- which wasn’t enough in his opinion. “Since when do I have to knock in my own home?”

She gave him a duh stare. “Uhhh, how about since you have a guest using your bathroom?”

He shrugged with another smirk, as if that didn’t matter. When it came to her, it didn’t. “So are you telling me you don’t want the towel then?” He couldn’t help himself. She made it too easy and far too entertaining to antagonize her.

He saw her blush even with the heat in the room. His smirk transformed into a grin. When she didn’t answer, he pushed away from the door, went to lean on the counter of the sink next to the glass-encased shower. Kalla tried to cover herself with her arms but even that left a lot of her bare to his gaze.

He rubbed a corner of his mouth, eyes going heavy lidded as he let them drift slowly over her. She really did have a great body, lean with well-defined muscles under her pale skin, generous curves in all the right places. Nicely rounded hips that just begged a man to hold onto them tapering into a slim, narrow waist. High rounded breasts that weren’t too small nor too big. He bet they would fit perfectly in the palms of his hands.

“Tell you what, princess,” he drawled as an idea took shape. “How about I join you? Then we can call it even.”

Kalla’s dual-coloured eyes went round. “Wh- _what_?!” she practically squeaked.

He got up, set the towel down on the sink and started to unbutton his shirt. “You heard me.”

Oh for fucks sake! He couldn’t… He didn’t… Did he…? Oh yes he most certainly did! Kalla watched in wide-eyed disconcertion as the ranger started stripping. She wanted to look away but… Oh who the hells was she kidding?! She stared unabashedly as he shed his clothing, feeling a heat that had absolutely nothing to do with the water temperature starting to steal over her entire body. Her toes actually curled and her mouth watered, wanting a taste of all that lush, tawny skin that became apparent once he shrugged out of his shirt. Quite against her will, Kalla stepped closer to the glass for a better look as Bishop turned his back to her. He balanced on one foot as he removed the boot and sock on the opposite one. Thin old silver scars speckled his body; they had no real pattern and some looked older than others. She felt a sharp stab in the vicinity of her chest at the sight of them, wanting to know how he’d gotten them. Her fingertips itched to trace those marks so she curled them in towards her palms.

He’d removed his other boot and sock as she had been too busy ogling him, running scenarios through her mind as to how he may have gotten all those scars. None of them had been pleasant, making the sharp stabbing sensation in her chest just grow in intensity until it actually hurt. Poor ranger, he didn’t deserve that. He might be a bastard but he didn’t strike Kalla as a cruel man. A tease surely. All male most definitely. Just this side of cocky, he was very self-assured, something she’d always found undeniably attractive and compelling, with a sort of almost dark charisma that beckoned her on a very visceral level.

Something told her he would be the real adventurous type in bed, would never leave his partner unsatisfied. In fact, he gave the impression that he knew he was the best at what he did and he did it better than any man that had ever been alive. No false modesty yet no empty bravado either. He was that damned good and didn’t need to prove it. But if you challenged him, you had better be prepared to put your money where your mouth was. He could talk the talk and walk the walk, back up every single little word. That was wholly provocative to the petite Nord. However, he had yet to prove it to her.

Hmmm. _“Live a little more, care a little less,”_ Eyrie’s words floated through her mind as she watched Bishop tug his jeans down and she got a truly wonderful view of his backside. Rumproast indeed! HA!

She must have made some sound or other because the ranger glanced at her over his shoulder. She saw one corner of his mouth quirk up, his brow closest to her arch. “Something wrong?” he asked her coolly, as if getting naked in front of practically complete strangers was nothing out of the ordinary for him. For all she knew, it could be true.

“Nope, not a thing.” Well, it wasn’t precisely the truth but it wasn’t a flat-out lie either.

He stepped out of his jeans and turned to face her. Kalla kept her eyes fastened onto his face, fighting the almost overwhelming temptation to drop them lower. Considering he was dead-set on joining her in the shower, she’d get a good eyeful of that particular part of his anatomy soon enough. As it was, she felt her face flushing a deeper shade of red than what the hot water accounted for.

As he opened the door, she pressed back against the opposite wall to make room for him. This up close and personal, it hit her like a ton of bricks exactly what a huge Nord he was. He positively towered over her. Made her feel even smaller than what she was. Normally, that would have set her on her guard; with him, she didn’t seem to mind it nearly as much as she should have. In fact, if she was honest, she really liked it.

Kalla craned her head back, wiping the water out of her eyes. It pelted down on his hair, turning it the colour of umber, and he slicked it back from his face. Oh my my. That made the boldness of his well-formed features even more pronounced. Her lips parted slightly as her stomach gave a strange little flip, leaving her feeling giddy and pleasantly light-headed. She suddenly wanted him to kiss her again. To cover how flustered his very nearness made her, she dropped her gaze.

Only to realize too late that had been a very, very bad idea. The colour in her cheeks burned even brighter as a little whimper bubbled up in her throat at what she saw. He was half aroused, not yet fully erect and not completely soft either and he was still very… Her blush grew even deeper.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me, you know. I don’t bite…” her gaze flicked up to his and she saw the light of teasing and humour glowing softly in the warm amber depths of his eyes, that cheeky, almost slightly wicked smirk of his on his lips. “Well, not much anyway,” he amended.

“I bite back,” popped right out of her mouth without consulting her brain if that had been the right thing to say. If her face got any hotter, it would burst into flames.

Bishop lifted one very large hand, took a hold of a stray curl that lay across her shoulder and gently tugged it down straight until it reached the tip of her breast. His knuckles just grazed her nipple which puckered hard instantly at the fleeting touch. “I just bet you do. I expected no less out of a woman like you.”

He released her curl and rather than stepping back to give her some much needed room in which to just breathe, he encroached on her personal space until her back made contact with the tiles. That wicked light flickered in his eyes again as he placed his hands to either side of her shoulders, effectively hemming her in. He leaned down until his cheek just brushed hers and she felt the warmth of his breath against the side of her throat.

Kalla shivered despite the heat of the water, wetting her lips with her tongue since they seemed to have gone suddenly dry. Her throat felt tight, her stomach did that odd flipping sensation again as his scent overwhelmed her highly developed senses. She tried her best to rein in her impulses and just barely succeeded. That is, until his deep voice rumbled in her ear.

“You are so very tempting.” His stubbled cheek grazed along her own smooth one, teasing down her neck until his mouth hovered just over the vulnerable flesh of her shoulder. Her hands settled at his waist, soft as a lighting moth. Her fingertips tingled at the contact, a rush of blood making other parts of her join in the tingling.

The tension was a live thing; it snapped and crackled between them with the same ferocity as a building thunderstorm out on the tundra.  The ranger drew back just far enough he could look down into Kalla’s heavy-lidded dual-coloured eyes; they’d gone a full shade darker, her full lips slightly parted. She rose up onto her tiptoes, stopping just before her mouth met his.

He grinned, realizing she was using the same ploy he had back at the hot spring. She gave him an answering grin and a cocked brow in return.

“Minx,” he growled quietly before he claimed her lips for a kiss that sent her reeling senses scattering to Oblivion and beyond.

Kalla moaned softly against his mouth as his tongue swept into her own, twining and stroking slowly. At the feel of his large body pressing her back against the wall. Naked, masculine skin slid sensuously against her own smooth flesh, aided by the water that fell down on them. She twined her arms loosely about his neck, nipping lightly at his bottom lip before she re-joined the kiss. One of his hands sank into her wet curls, the other drifted down her back to cup a buttock and draw her hips even closer to his so she could feel him, hard and heavy, against the hollow of her thighs. She shivered again, pressing the length of her body tighter against his, trying to get even closer to him.

He felt so damned good as he took his time kissing her. He was slow, methodical and she just knew this kiss was just a taste of what he could do, his way of showing her that he had patience and could coax every single response from her body he wanted. And boy could he. Her blood was already singing in her veins, racing through her like champagne bubbles. A rich burn had already taken up residence deep in the pit of her belly, making her ache to have him inside of her.

That part of her she had tried so long and hard to deny, to shut down and ignore, had trained to live without  contact like this, came alive the longer Bishop kissed her, the longer his body moved against hers, all smooth muscles and steely strength. She wanted him with an urgency that bordered on madness. She wasn’t the type of woman to just hop in bed with a guy because his ass looked good in a pair of jeans and he had nice broad shoulders. She never had been. She wasn’t a virgin by any stretch of the imagination nor was she a nymphomaniac. She’d had a healthy sex drive if a bit on the higher side when she had still been human.

Only she wasn’t purely human anymore and that… that made her dangerous. Dangerous to form any sort of relationship, especially one of a more physical nature, with anyone. True, Eyrie was a friend but that had happened after a few years of them speaking out of necessity. It had just sort of… developed. Kalla could admit, even now, that part of it had stemmed from her own need for that type of contact with another person, that type of connection so she didn’t feel so alone when dealing with all the shit her new life entailed. That the mer knew what she was had been a bonus even if Eyrie still had a healthy dose of fear in her for the Nord woman who wasn’t just a woman.

Kalla felt her control slipping more and more the longer she let this continue. “Bishop,” she spoke against his mouth, breaking away. “We have to stop.”

Confusion marred his handsome face, made his amber eyes grow dark. He didn’t move away from her, still kept his body against hers. “Why? I already told you, you don’t need to be afraid of me.”

She let her head fall back against the wall, closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing. All she could smell was him; damp earth, pine, wood smoke, leather and the deep musk of male. It twisted a sharp knife in her belly, making her ache even more to have him inside of her, his hands on her body. Her beast was creeping closer, Kalla could feel her. The feral hunter, mistress of moonlight and of wild primal things. Wild primal things… just like the big Nord who had yet to move away from her. Her fingers spasmed against the muscles of his shoulders, wanting to tug his head back down to hers so he could kiss her again. The need was almost too strong to fight.

When she kept silent, Bishop cupped one of her cheeks in his palm, thumb stroking softly over her silken skin. She looked like she was having some sort of internal battle; a slight frown marked her fair brow, making them draw together slightly. Her eyes were tightly closed and she was breathing heavily. A thought struck him and he asked though he was already pretty damned sure of the answer he’d receive. “You aren’t a virgin are you?”

Kalla gave a short bark of laughter even if she still didn’t change expression or move position. “Hardly.”

For some odd reason, the thought of her in another man’s arms made his jaw clench and a wave of possessiveness sweep over him. How weird was that? They’d practically just met. He shouldn’t even be feeling something like that. Still, he did. There was no denying that imagining seeing her under someone else, writhing and crying out as he rode her made the ranger want to rip this unknown other guy’s head right off.

At the low, ominous growl coming from the big Nord in the shower with her, Kalla risked cracking open her eyes to look up at him. Something flamed in the depths of his amber eyes, something that made the wolf inside her sit up straight and take notice. It was a feral intensity that sent a shiver coursing down her spine and made the fine downhairs on her body stand erect.

“You shouldn’t look at me like that if you don’t mean it, princess.” His deep voice had gone an octave deeper, roughening as his gaze fastened on her lips again.

“Look at you in what way?” Kalla asked him, still trying to gather her senses and get control of her raging hormones while attempting to push her wolf back into the darkness. What on Nirn was he talking about now?

His hand still hadn’t left her cheek; he used it to tip her head further up so he could lock gazes with her. His eyes flickered over her face, drinking in her features, like he was committing them to memory. “Like you could eat me alive. Be my guest. I wouldn’t mind in the least so long as you let me return the favour.”

The way he said that to her and the deep, husky timbre of his voice had her toes curling. Oh she liked the sound of that. Really, _really_ liked the sound of that. “Fuck me,” she choked as her heart started racing, getting that light-headed giddy feeling all over again. The wolf inside of her leapt forward eagerly and she smacked it smartly across the snout.

The ranger smirked, showing just a hint of his canine. “Now you’re speaking my language. How about it, princess? We’re already wet so why not get a little wild, hm? Or a lot.” His grin grew, becoming increasingly devilish.

_Temptation, thy name is Bishop,_ Kalla thought, her resolve starting to slip once more. It would be so easy, so easy to just let go. To give in to everything he had to offer. And oh how she wanted to.

He watched the play of emotions as they chased themselves across Kalla’s face. Desire warred with her determination to resist him. Victory was so close he could almost taste it. He gave her a little nudge in the direction he wanted her to go, wedging a knee between her thighs and lifting it until the top of his leg made contact with the centre of her body. Her eyelids fluttered as she sank her teeth into her bottom lip to stifle a groan. The fingers of her hands she had laid flat to his chest dug into his flesh even as he slid his arms around her narrow waist to pull her flush against his body. Moving slowly, purposefully, he used the top of his thigh to stroke her heat, one languid caress that made the hellion gasp. Oh, he liked that sound. He wondered what other noises he could get out of her.

The water abruptly going from hot to cold made the ranger curse softly. He shut it off with a quick twist of the tap. Kalla didn’t seem to notice, was looking up at him with her full lips slightly parted again, her eyes gone heavy-lidded once more. He lifted her easily and she wrapped her legs about his waist, snugging her head down against his shoulder as she held onto him.

He carried her out of his bathroom and made directly for his bed. As he lay her down against the dark earth-toned sheets, he followed after her, not breaking contact. She actually purred as he settled his weight carefully on her, carrying the majority of it on his elbows so as not to crush her. She rubbed herself against him, just like a cat, threading her fingers through his hair before tugging his head down to hers so she could kiss him. Bishop’s triumphant chuckle reverberated against her breasts. He trailed his mouth along her jaw, up under her chin, tracing his tongue down her throat. Her skin was sweet, faintly salty, smooth as silk and so delicate and fair his stubble turned it faint pink where he scraped it.

Kalla hissed softly between her teeth as the ranger teased her. Too long she had been without this type of contact, without a man’s touch on her body. She should be pushing away but she honestly didn’t want to. She watched him with slitted eyes as his mouth travelled over her chest. It felt soft, like plush, a startling contrast to the rest him that was all coiled strength and power. A thrill went through her that he seemed to know it and could keep it restrained. That is, until she gave him the go ahead to let it loose on her. Oh gods, that was… Just… the thought of him going wild on her did wonderfully wicked things to her insides. Her sex clenched tight around nothing, making her whimper softly, her fingers in his short coppery hair to twist ever so slightly.

When his lips fastened onto one of her nipples, taking it into the damp warmth of his mouth, his tongue swirling around the hardened peak, it made her writhe under him. She felt each tug, each lick, in the pit of her womb. One of his large hands gently kneaded her other breast, his thumb teasing over the tip and it drew up hard in response. He brushed his warm, lightly calloused palm over it and she hissed softly again, her hips lifting until she felt the hard length of him sliding over her slickness. Bishop switched his attentions with his mouth to her other breast, giving it the same treatment as he had the first.

When he had her panting lightly, only then did he move lower. His mouth burned a path down the flatness of her belly, along the curve of one of her hipbones, nuzzling his stubbled cheek against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Kalla’s breathing hitched in her chest at the sensation. His breath fell warm over the narrow strip of short pale curls on her mound. She dared to look down at him, saw his golden amber eyes watching her intently. She stopped breathing altogether when he drew a single fingertip over the split in her netherlips, parting them. Her head fell back onto the bed, mouth opening in a silent cry as soon as his mouth touched her.

His tongue swept through her folds and frills, moving without any hurry. He purposely avoided the hard little nub of her clit, instead concentrating on other areas first. He invaded her sheath with just the very tip of his tongue, growling at the taste of her; faintly tangy, like lemon, yet sweet as honey. That made her hands in his hair tug all the harder which made him grin, only she couldn’t see it. When Kalla’s thighs cradling his face began to tremble, only then did he finally fasten his mouth onto her clit. Her back arched high as she cried out, shuddering. She rocked her hips shamelessly while he devoured her. And still he didn’t stop. Not until he had wrung every last quiver from her and she lay breathless and still on his bed. A soft, secret smile curved her generous lips as he placed his chin against her stomach, curling his arms around her hips. She stroked his hair tenderly, giving him that same soft, sweet smile that made him see all over again her appeal.

“Not broken I hope,” he teased her with a grin.

She shook her head lightly with an answering grin. “Not even close, wolf-boy. You’ll have to do more than that.”

Bishop gave her a considering sort of look as he prowled up her body, settling his hips between her thighs. He cocked his head slightly to one side, mischief gleaming in his amber eyes. “I wonder if you could take it,” he mused, almost to himself.

Kalla met his gaze, tipping her head back as she wound her arms loosely about his neck. “Never know till you try. I’m up for it if you are.”

His brows rose sharply towards his hairline at that right before that wicked smile of his covered his face, showing just the barest hint of his canines. He leaned up on one arm over her, used his other hand to position himself to the entrance of her body. Going slowly so she felt every thick, hard inch of him, he entered her. Kalla’s eyes actually rolled back in her head, her breath leaving her on a faint “ahhh”.

Once he had seated his cock as deep inside of her as he could go, he held himself still to allow her time to grow accustomed to the feel of him and his size. He was a bit bigger than average, he knew, and with how small Kalla was, he didn’t want to damage her. As it was, she was so tight around him he knew either she hadn’t had sex in quite a long time or he was larger than what she was used to. Either scenario worked for him. The way her walls gripped him, how wet she already was, yeah, he could get used to this.

Now to see if she gave as good as she got.

He withdrew his length from Kalla until just the very crown was left encased inside her before he slowly, lush inch by each lush inch, thrust forward. She groaned, raising her legs to wrap them loosely around his hips even as she tipped hers slightly to allow him to slide in even deeper. He stroked her slow and steady, watching her beneath him. She bit her bottom lip, drawing her short nails down over his shoulders and chest. He thrust hard into her, holding himself still for the space of a heartbeat before he lowered his body down onto hers. He tangled his fingers into her wild curls to hold her steady as he gradually began to pick up the pace just a bit.

Kalla clung to him, barely able to breathe, as he moved inside of her. He was so hard, demanding, it made her ache but in an entirely pleasurable way. She raked her nails down his back, getting a growl from the ranger and a sharp nip to her shoulder. Her hands settled at his hips to urge him to move faster as she dropped her legs, digging her heels into the bed as she moved in a counter-point. Flames licked at her the soles of her feet, starting their slow progression upwards. Heat coiled through her, burned just like molten lava in her belly. The knot there grew tighter the more he moved, the harder, the deeper he thrust into her.

Dual-coloured eyes floated up in the darkness of her mind but the beast drew no closer; not yet. But she was right below the surface, drawn by what her human counterpart was experiencing. Warmth, heat, pleasure that was again building. The musk of sex reached her nose and Kalla’s nails sank deep into Bishop’s sides. He quickened his movements in response, setting a fast pounding rhythm that had her crying out with each stroke he delivered to her. Leaning up on his arms, he watched her as she bucked under him, hips lifting higher to give him even greater penetration, silently begging him to go harder. He did, driving his full length into her on every pass, feeling her sheath growing tighter around him. A dusky rose flush was starting to creep up her chest and into her cheeks, her nipples were hard as marbles and he could even feel the quivering starting deep inside of her.

He leaned back down, laying his body atop hers as she began to shiver. Her arms curled around his neck as she held him close. He traced a path up the side of her throat to her ear, growling softly. Kalla cried out and he stopped the sound with his mouth, kissing her as she whimpered and writhed under him, the walls of her sex fluttering around his invading girth, clutching tight then releasing repeatedly.

She spun out of control, driven over the edge to sink down into a blissful darkness as lights exploded and dissipated behind her closed eyes. Fire travelled along every limb, sat heavily in her belly with a pulsing heat that radiated to every fibre of her being. And again the ranger drove himself into her, holding himself still so she could feel the silky rush of his seed filling her. His skin smelled enticing, warm and masculine and she wanted to drown in it. This… this was… entirely familiar yet completely different. Her wolf rose again, creeping closer, come to investigate but she pushed her away. _Not now. Let me have at least one moment of peace,_ she told the beast. It slunk dejectedly back into the darkness…

Bishop turned his head to look at Kalla. She had that same soft, secret smile on her full lips as she seemed to purr under him. Her hands drifted lightly over his back, caressing softly as she radiated contentment. He grinned. He now knew the answer to his question; she definitely gave as good as she got.

“Feeling better, princess?” he couldn’t keep the smile out of his voice.

“Mmm,” she murmured, opening her eyes to slits. She lay a palm to his scarred cheek, slid it back to curl around the nape of his neck, her fingers cool and gentle. “It’s a good start,” she told him, light accented voice husky.

He grinned down at her, burying his fingers into her hair to tug her head back and expose the pale column of her throat. He nipped at her flesh, making her purr again. “Greedy woman,” he teased her.

“Is that a complaint I hear?” she cooed sweetly before hissing as he sank his teeth into the skin right at the juncture to her neck and shoulder, not hard but hard enough to make her shiver again with a small sigh of pleasure at the action.

Bishop didn’t answer her. Not with words, anyway.

_______________________________________________

**_~ Several Hours Later; 1:23 a.m Sundas ~_ **

Kalla lay flat on her stomach with her knees bent and her ankles crossed while he sat up against the head of his bed. He had a black sheet modestly covering his hips but the wee fiend was completely naked and didn’t seem to care as she sifted through the bowl of trail-mix between them for one of the raisin clusters she seemed to prefer. She stayed away from the candy-coated chocolate he noticed. Not that it bothered him; he figured she wouldn’t eat stuff like that, given her physique.

“So how’d you get those?” She motioned to four long thin scars that ran from his hipbone down to almost the middle of his thigh.

How _had_ he gotten them? Oh yeah. Eyrie. She’d gotten a bit enthusiastic during one of their carnal encounters in the past. But he wasn’t going to tell the woman in his bed that. He shrugged and popped one of the chocolates into his mouth. “There any meaning to the tattoo at the small of your back?”

A shadow passed behind her eyes before she shrugged, folding her arms and laying her head down on them. “Yeah, there is.” When she didn’t continue, he cocked a brow at her. She arched one right back at him, a corner of her wide full lips quirking up. “Fiiine, you nosy thing. I like wolves and lilies.”

He gave her a look that clearly showed his scepticism. “That’s it?”

“For now.” Kalla sat up, crawled across the bed and snugged herself against his side. He obligingly draped an arm around her shoulders, making her sigh happily as she lay her head on his chest. Her fingers played through the thick dusting of mahogany hairs that dappled his chest, following it down to his navel and the small scar that arced along his lowest rib. He waited for her to ask how he got that one but she didn’t, just traced it lightly before laying her hand flat against his stomach. Her gaze flicked up to his, her hand leaving his stomach to trace a fingertip lightly through the scar that ran through his left brow. “What about that one?”

He caught her hand in his, brought it back down to his chest. There was confusion in her dual-coloured eyes, like she was worried that maybe she’d upset him. He smiled down at her; there was no way he was going to tell Kalla about that part of his past. That he’d gotten it in a fight while trying to protect Eyrie from some assholes. It wasn’t that so much as what had been the outcome of that fight that he didn’t want to tell her. He changed the subject instead. “You hungry, princess?”

Her face went blank for a second before she grinned and lightly bit his shoulder. “Starving. But I think we need food too.”

That made him laugh. He kissed her lips lightly before he slid from the bed. Kalla made a soft purring sound behind him that had him glancing over his shoulder at her. She was lying flat on her stomach again, her eyes fastened onto him. He turned around to face her and crooked a finger at her. She grinned, slipping from his bed and walked right up to him only to curl her arms around his waist and press her naked body close to his. He bit back a growl at how good she felt as he wrapped his arms around her.

“I thought you said you were hungry.”

“I am,” Kalla said as she dropped to her knees in front of him.

_______________________________________________

**_~ Another Couple Hours Later: Early (Or Late) Sundas Morning; 3:15 a.m. ~_ **

They’d finally made it downstairs. That woman had stamina to beat the band. If she had rolled over and grabbed him one more time he might have begged for mercy.

Pffft, who the hells was he kidding? A few quick strokes of her fingers and he’d have been rock-hard and ready to take her again. Still, this little break was nice. And they needed sustenance anyway.

Kalla leaned on the counter across from him, wearing one of his black tee-shirts since she had balked at the white one. It was several sizes too big and came down to the middle of her thighs but he had to admit she still looked damned sexy in it. Especially with her tousled pale curls floating free around her slender shoulders down to her hips. She’d barely touched the couple slices of beef roast on her plate, just kept glancing at him and blushing even though she grinned when she did. She appeared restless even after their rather… active night.

She set her fork down and proceeded to walk into his living room, wandering around the confines of his cabin. He continued eating, watching her as he did. She stopped by his stereo system, inspecting it. Without asking him, she flipped it on and turned to a rock station. Guitar music poured out with a heavy slow thumping rhythm.

“You’re rock candy, baby / You’re hot, sweet and sticky,” the singer’s voice blared, making Kalla let out a little whoop. She quickly shut the stereo off before the next verses could be heard. When she turned and he could see her face again, her cheeks were flushed and she looked to be like she was trying to keep from having a giggle fit. He arched a brow. That was an… interesting response for her to have.

He carried their plates to the sink, rinsed them off and put them into his dishwasher before he turned back around to see what she’d gotten into next. She was at his flatscreen, perusing the video games he had there. He didn’t normally play but they came in handy when he was snowed in until the plow could come around and clear a path for him. She picked up the rifle to one of his shooter games, turning it over in her hands. He folded his arms across his bare chest as he leaned back against the counter and continued to watch her even as she lifted the rifle to her shoulder and checked the sight. He cocked a brow again; she looked like she knew what she was doing.

“You actually know how to use one of those things, princess?” he asked, curious as to what her answer would be.

She turned towards him with a smile and shrugged. “I know which is the dangerous end,” she replied vaguely, setting the rifle back in its cradle.

He left his kitchen and made his way over to Kalla as she stood in front of the bank of windows. With no one around to see and only the light from the twin moons casting their pale glow into the room anyway, he tugged his black tee-shirt off her and tossed it to the back of the couch. She was smiling at him again, full lips curved gently upwards at the corners, arching one pale brow at him. Without another word, he picked her up and she wound her arms around his neck, wrapped her legs about his hips. He nipped her chin gently and turned towards his stairs.

There was still a couple more hours until daylight. He knew exactly how he was going to make use of them.

____________________________________________

**_~ Sundas Morning; 9:47 a.m ~_ **

A small warm body was pressed close to his side, lying half over his chest. Bishop opened eyes still heavy with sleep to find Kalla next to him, still blissfully asleep herself. A faint trace of a lingering smile was on her full lips and her wayward pale curls fanned out across his dark pillows in a wild tangle, some of them trapped under his shoulder. He extricated his arm from between them, careful not to wake her, and lay it across her back to tug her closer. She didn’t wake, just snuggled back down against him with a soft murmur of contentment.

He actually liked the feel of her there, the sensation of her warm breath puffing gently against his bare skin. The ranger ran a hand lingeringly down her spine, making her move against his side, a slow, sinuous little stretch, just like a cat, right before she draped a leg over one of his thighs and an arm across his ribs. She nuzzled into his shoulder with another sleepy murmur before settling back down. The whole thing made him grin.

Diffuse sunlight was peeking between the curtains of the windows to his bedroom, bathing everything in a warm golden glow. He couldn’t have been asleep more than a couple of hours. He really should try to get some more rest before the little fiend woke up. Gods only knew what she’d try but the possibilities were… infinitely entertaining. During their marathon, they’d used his bed, then his floor, his sofa, his extra-large chair, even on the rug in front of the fireplace. He’d taken her in so many positions, he was sure they were recreating this book from… well, he wasn’t sure where it originated but it had what seemed like an endless number of depictions of exactly what they had just done. Some of them had surprised him; he didn’t think the human body could contort in such a fashion but Kalla had proven that it could.

She was adventurous, open, enthusiastic and yes, she was loud. Her cries, gasps, moans and the other noises he’d gotten from her made him very glad he lived out in the middle of nowhere. She was not shy about telling him what she liked, what she wanted or letting him know without words that she had thoroughly and utterly enjoyed every single thing he had done to and with her. He had certainly enjoyed everything she had done to him.

Bishop grimaced slightly as he settled back a bit further into his pillows; he didn’t need to go look into a mirror to know his back was covered with scratches from where Kalla had dug her nails into his skin when she had reached climax. He could practically tell where each one was, making him feel a purely male surge of self-satisfaction that he had been the one to garner such a response from the hellion who nestled against him and looked so sweet and innocent as she slept. If he ended up with a few more scars this weekend, well, the price was well worth it, by his accounting.

Now it was Sundas and she would have to get back to her life, leaving him to his solitude. It never used to bother him before. He’d grown used to it. But once Kalla warmed up, let her defences down, she was a lot of fun to be around. She didn’t take anything personally. He could poke fun at her and she blushed, laughed, or poked him right back. Best of all, she blushed when he looked at her and when he growled in her ear, she went weak in the knees and sighed, her eyes drifting closed and shivered, her pale, porcelain skin going all gooseflesh. She was so small compared to him, so fragile looking despite the lean dense muscle that made up her slender, compact frame that he actually worried about hurting her.

He grinned, recalling during one of their many encounters when she had grown exasperated with him and finally yanked his hair hard enough it had gotten his undivided attention and told him not to worry, she wouldn’t break and if he hurt her a little bit, she really wouldn’t mind. If he did anything she didn’t like, she would make sure to let him know. He’d felt relieved and hadn’t held back and by the Nine, her response had been beyond his wildest imaginings and he really, _really_ wasn’t lacking in the imagination department whatsoever. She’d arched tightly against him, raked her nails down his back from his shoulders to his hips and begged him not to stop. Just the thought of it was enough to make him rock-hard and throbbing, ready to take her all over again.

He glanced down at the woman sleeping peacefully at his side, threading his fingers through her curls to brush them back off her face. She murmured quietly, rubbing her cheek against his chest, giving that slow, sinuous stretch. Carefully, he tugged over until she was lying fully on top of him, running his hands down her back until he could get a grip on her backside and pull her higher. Her thighs parted and right as her eyes were fluttering open, he slid himself deep inside of her sheath again, making her moan low in the back of her throat. She was wet, warm, welcoming, clasping snugly around his member. He moved slowly, cupping her face between his palms so he could kiss her just as slowly.

Kalla’s hands curved over his shoulders, her body in contact with his from chest to where they were joined. She nipped lightly at his lips with her teeth, hissing softly as he drove his length a bit harder into her. She laughed huskily, running the tip of her tongue along his bottom lip. “A girl could get used to this, you know,” she told him the same husky way she had laughed.

His cocked jumped inside of her at those words as they struck a nerve; a good one. He urged her to move with his hands at her hips, showing her how she should ride him. Slow and easy, drawing out her pleasure and his. When she would have sped up, he slowed her down, holding her still as she shook, her forehead pressed to his as she sighed his name just like a lover. It touched a buried part of him that he hadn’t paid the least bit of attention to in years. He wanted this woman, wanted to keep her in his bed for as long as he could and not just because the sex was amazing. She was warmth, a soft touch, reached him on a level that shook him to his core. Him! The affirmed bachelor. But that was mostly out of necessity more than natural inclination.

True, after Eyrie, he just wasn’t the type for a serious relationship. Love ‘em and leave ‘em had been his motto. No woman wanted to stay out here, on a wildlife reservation, in the middle of nowhere where in the middle of Skyrim’s brutally harsh winters it could be days before the road was cleared. Hells, he even had a back-up generator for his back-up! His fireplaces were wood burning as well as gas out of necessity. And if it was particularly bad, he’d have to hunt for his own meat if he couldn’t make it into town for supplies.

He had no guarantees he’d even see Kalla again after this weekend. For all he knew, this could be it between them. Well, and if it was, he was going to enjoy his time with her to its fullest. Sitting up with her in his arms, he urged her to move harder against him, taking him deep inside of her. She actually groaned, her head falling back as she dug her nails into his shoulders, a look of pleasure on her face.

“That’s it, sweetness,” he growled against the side of her throat. “Take what you want. There’s no rush.” His mouth drifted downwards as he pulled her close against him, so close her round breasts were nearly flattened to his chest and he set his teeth into the juncture to her neck and shoulder, knowing she liked it when he did that.

The insides of Kalla’s thighs burned against his sides, her hips jerking in short, sharp little movements as she wrapped her arms around his head to hold him to her. “Bishop, please!” she whimpered, the walls of her sex growing increasingly tighter around his girth.

His hands drifted down to her rear, cupped her and lifted her before letting her drop back down onto his cock. She cried out with each stroke and in less than a dozen, she had gone rigid in his arms, shaking as the walls of her sheath spasmed around him. Her breath left her in that long fluttery sigh she gave at her last, when she had reached her crisis point. As suddenly as Kalla had stiffened, she was pliable against him, clinging without strength to him in surrender. Another half a dozen strokes and he was joining her, his seed rushing warm, warmer even than she was, into her body that had welcomed him with such an eager embrace.

Spent, Bishop lay back against the pillows, drawing Kalla down on top of him. Flexing the walls of her sex, she kept a snug hold of him, unwilling to lose the feeling of him inside of her; not quite yet. He didn’t mind in the least. If he could, he’d stay right where he was and as he was until the world stopped. As he held her, he could feel her heart beating with the slow, heavy rhythm that it always had after she had orgasmed. His was doing the same. He was content.

What a strange sensation that was, the ranger reflected. With Eyrie, their relationship had just been the start, begun with that sense of youthful immortality that can sometimes tie you together for life if it is nurtured and given the time, care and energy to grow into something solid and lasting. It had burned hot and bright, that was for damned sure. They had been drawn to each other like moths to a flame. Not unlike the attraction between him and the woman who was purring her satiation atop his chest. But this, this was different than what he and Eyrie had shared. Given sufficient time and different circumstances, perhaps what had been between him and the mer could have turned into that something that could have lasted.

Only that had never happened. Almost as soon as they had begun down that road, their lives had been hijacked by one night that should never, ever have happened. His had taken a sharp left turn straight to shitsville, mostly by his decision to cover for Eyrie and protect her from any of the backlash that her diplomat mother couldn’t make disappear even with all her connections. So Bishop had taken the heat. And the blame.

The vagaries of youth had given way to what he’d assumed were the sureties of adulthood. Spending time behind bars tended to make you grow up really fucking quickly.  As soon as he had been released from his prison, he’d had two choices; take the envelope and the new life and new identity or he could go wherever he could, wherever he made it on his own. Only Eyrie --- or more likely her mother, who’d said she had an “affection” for him because her daughter did though it went unsaid Eyrie would never have been in that situation if it weren’t for him in the first place --- had arranged for him to become the new park ranger here at Meridia’s Forest Preserve and Wildlife Sanctuary. Complete with full, already-paid-for training. It didn’t give him his old life back, it didn’t bring Eyrie back into it as the lover she had been, but it gave him open skies rather than cement walls. Trees instead of steel bars. Solitude rather than having to constantly watch his back for friends of the people on the outside who wanted him to pay for that one night when so much had changed irrevocably not just for him, but for Eyrie too.

Here in his cabin, out in the middle of nowhere, he’d healed slowly but surely from his incarceration. Only Eyrie’s occasional visits broke the monotony as she did what she could to help him adjust but those visits grew less and less frequent as the years went by and while he’d missed her company, he’d learned to live with it. And he came to understand that what they’d had, it had been wonderful, amazing, while it had lasted but it just wasn’t what he truly needed. They came from two completely different walks of life so it was more than just their vastly separated social strata that kept them from picking up right where they left off. Their time together would always hold a special place in his heart. So they had grown apart as lovers only to become closer as friends. Oh, she still occasionally graced his bed but that happened less and less as more and more of her time was taken up with “business’, she told him.

He’d relegated himself then to one-night stands with attractive female hikers who didn’t have any qualms or hang-ups about fucking the ruggedly handsome if scarred park ranger. It wasn’t that his out-look on relationships had been soured, precisely, so much as none of them were the right sort of fit for him and his lifestyle. Not to mention, there was no instant attraction beyond the physical to them and that, he knew from personal experience, soon fizzled out. As much as he liked sex, there was only so much the human body could take. That left several hours or more of free time and if there was no other deeper connection or interests that lined up, well… Might as well take care of it himself than have to find excuses to get the woman out of his cabin.

He was familiar with this other type of attraction, hadn’t tasted a trace of it since Eyrie. Until said mer had dropped the hot-headed, spitfire of a hellion on him. It was oh so similar yet entirely different. He knew how to tell the difference. Given the right circumstances, whatever it was that was just starting between him and Kalla had the possibility to grow into the indefinable something that could last. True, she had been cool, even stand-offish that first day. But once he got her talking and she started drinking, her defences had lowered and he’d seen the vibrant personality she kept hidden. What was most surprising was he actually liked her and for more than just the fact she was a fantastic lay.

She was possessed of a keen intelligence, a sarcastic wit that was a rival for his own, a cheeky humour he found refreshing, was surprisingly down to earth for one of her sex, didn’t seem high maintenance even with all the leather she wore. Not that he was complaining about the leather so much as that it had laces rather than zippers which were much easier to get open. She was proving to be fearless, adventurous, seemed like she could handle herself and didn’t need anyone to take care of her. He’d always been partial to women who could stand on their own two feet and didn’t resort to having a man fight their battles for them. Not saying that he wouldn’t step in and have her back but it was nice to see she was no coward. Evasive, a little bit. With the right sort of prodding and challenge issuing, he’d gotten her to go in the direction he wanted. What he liked most about her thus far was that she cuddled up to him without any reservations now that physical barriers and obstructions between them had been demolished. She’d leapt headfirst into their games with an enthusiasm that had slightly shocked him as much as it had pleased him. She was completely unabashed about her appetites and desires and fully reciprocated with interest.

Yeah, he could definitely get used to seeing her in his cabin and his bed again after this weekend. The way her scent lingered on his skin and sheets he could get used to as well. She smelled of all the things he loved; sweetgrass, sunlight, rain, fresh mountain air, cool shadows under the forest’s canopy and that faintly musky scent of female overlying her own unique scent that was all her own. He didn’t even mind that Kalla seemed to enjoy imitating his blanket and draping herself naked over him. So long as she kept doing it unclothed, she’d get no complaints from him. He could watch her for hours as she moved around in her natural state, the play of her long, lean muscles under her porcelain skin, even how her riotous little curls, a pale silvery blonde, bounced with the slightest of her movements, the faint fleshy wobble of her unbound breasts. It didn’t bother him at all that she had tattoos, piercings or that her ears had a soft point to them, almost like she had merish blood in her but he thought that unlikely. A body modification of some type, he surmised.

Her skin was so fair, almost unnaturally so; he could trace the veins that ran under it with just his sight, she had such a delicate complexion. It was so at odds with her tough-as-nails, take-no-shit attitude. That and her soft, feminine features gave her a sweet almost innocent appearance. Paired with her slightly too wide full lips and those striking dual-coloured eyes and to put it frankly, the woman was a knock-out but she wasn’t vain, not that he had taken note of. Attentive to her appearance, yes, but not obsessive about it.

Bishop glanced down at the small hand he could completely engulf with one of his own she had tucked under her chin. Along her knuckles were a fine webbing of scars, some old and so faded they were barely more than silvery hairs along her skin. Others were definitely newer, a few still raised and faintly pinkish. He arched a brow at that. This tiny, diminutive Nord woman was a brawler? His glance slid to his own knuckles, dusted with very similar scarring; he’d gotten most of his in fist-fights when he’d been younger. There was no doubts in his mind that was how Kalla had come by hers. A hazard of her profession, maybe? Oh shit. He didn’t even know what she did for a living! Granted, they’d been more occupied with… a different activity that involved the use of their mouths but she obviously knew what he was. It was self-explanatory.

When he looked back down at her, he found her heavy-lidded gaze already glued to his face. Her mouth was curled upwards at the corners the tiniest bit with an expression in her dual-coloured eyes he was already familiar with. As if he needed further confirmation as to what was going on inside that head of hers, she tightened some very strategic muscles around his cock that was still seated inside of her clinging heat even though he had gone soft. At her teasing, he was again hardening.

“Minx,” he rumbled quietly at her, trailing his hands down her back to get a good grip on her backside.

Her finely-shaped brows arched ever so faintly as Kalla murmured low and huskily to him, “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

How long had they been at it? How many times? Fuck if he could remember. She wouldn’t find him lacking, that was for damned sure. Kalla squeezed him again, a bit harder this time, making him tip his head back and growl at how good she felt. She giggled at his reaction. Giggled!

Seeking to get a bit of his own back before she could react, Bishop rolled over with her, pinning her beneath him. She whooped in surprise then laughed, cradling his body with her own, arms looped loosely about his neck and her long legs wrapped around his hips.

He nuzzled at her breasts, carrying his weight on his elbows so as not to crush her. “You’ll pay for that, temptress,” he told her, voice a low, sultry rumble.

Kalla almost purred in anticipation. “Promises, promises.”

He did more than make good on it.

_______________________________________________

**_~ Sundas Afternoon; 2:27 p.m. ~_ **

Eyrie sat behind the big mahogany desk in her home office, idly twirling a pen between her fingers. It was now around 2:30 Sundas afternoon. She had… left Kalla at Bishop’s around 4 in the afternoon on Fredas. Two full days had come and gone and she hadn’t gotten a phone call or a text message from either of them. That meant one of two things; either they’d killed each other or had hit it off and were too occupied with other matters _to_ bother contacting her. The mer allowed a small smile to curve her tinted lips. If _anyone_ could tame the hellion, she had no doubts it would be the ranger. He knew how to handle wild animals.

Shuffling aside a few pieces of loose paper from her stack, she double-checked Kalla’s work schedule; she didn’t have to be in until 2 Morndas afternoon and then worked a twelve hour shift. Eyrie vaguely recalled Kalla mentioning The Wild Side was short staffed again with a lot of the college kids going back to school. Ah well, you couldn’t have everything. If Bishop had made as… lasting an impression on her tiny hellion of a friend as she was certain he would, Kalla would find a way of seeing him. How did her own personal saying for the petite Nord go? Where there is a will, there is a Kalla? That summed it up rather nicely.

She’d give these two particular beasties in her very own personal zoo until noon tomorrow before she bothered them. Then again, maybe she wouldn’t. If Kalla told the ranger she had work, and Eyrie didn’t go to pick the small Nord up, he might just come down off his mountain to drive her there. Then again, Kalla would want to stop at her apartment for a fresh change of clothes. No. She’d go pick Kalla up. It was far too soon for her dear little hellion to consider bringing a man back to her “den” as she called it. The woman was territorial over who she allowed into her home, which, Eyrie considered, was only natural for her, considering what she was.

Yes. Tomorrow at noon she would call her newest pet project to see how things fared.

_______________________________________________________

**_~ Sundas Evening; 6:39 p.m. ~_ **

Kalla stood outside on the big wrap-around deck of Bishop’s cabin that overlooked the valley below. She was dressed in her faded blue jeans, her biker boots, studded black leather belt but rather than her leather vest, had filched one of the ranger’s tanks. It was huge and hung loose on her to almost the middle of her thighs and would have been indecent did she not have on her filmy little black bra under it.  She’d twisted her hair up into a messy knot at the back of her head but stray curls had escaped and blew free around her face in the light evening breeze. She brushed them back as she watched the sun sinking down below the opposite range of mountaintops. The sky was bathed in shades of lavender, rose, peach, carnelian and rich lapis, was just beginning to turn velvet black around the edges with a sprinkling of pure white stars, twinkling like scattered diamonds in the encroaching darkness.

The fresh fragrance of pine, maple, cedar and the other trees of the forest drifted on the cool, light winds that blew around her, teasing as the ranger’s touch had been not that long ago. Inhaling deeply, Kalla could still smell his scent lingering all over her. Happiness, contentment at that was a warmth inside of her. She adored having his scent on her skin; it made her feel… human. Something she normally didn’t feel most days, no matter how hard she tried to fool herself otherwise. The wolf inside of her was quiescent, lying couchant in the darkness of her mind, great head on her forepaws, eyes closed as drowsed lazily. The beast felt the same sense of peace she did out here.

Was it the location, being so far from the city, or was it the man who claimed this domain as his own? He seemed to belong here, was as much a part of these woods, the glades and valleys and rushing streams and the other havens of this vastness, as the wild denizens that called this place home. The Sanctuary was said to be one of the only places in Skyrim where a wild wolf pack still roamed free. Their numbers had been severely depleted, almost to the point of extinction, a few decades and then some back. Now they were on the endangered species list and it was a federal crime to harm one of them.

Warmth coiled around her heart at that. Bishop was their protector, here at the Sanctuary. The Champion of the Wolves. That made Kalla smile that rare, soft sweet smile of hers, just at the thought.

“You should smile like that more often, sweetness,” the ranger’s deep voice rumbled like quiet thunder, making her shiver. It ran in trickles over her skin like a physical caress.

She hadn’t heard him approach, didn’t even know he was near her until he stood directly behind her. Kalla reached a hand back, found a denim-encased thigh and let it rest there, her touch light, friendly and with genuine affection. His arms came around her, drew her back to lean against his chest, leaving his hands to rest folded atop her bosom. He was warm, so warm. Masculine skin, hard muscle; the promise of strength and power in the big Nord’s body, resting right below the surface.

Peace, quiet, serenity enfolded her just as his arms had. Her beast remained as she was, resting and content. How did he do that? How did the ranger accomplish what she herself could not? He wasn’t even aware of the wolf, though Kalla was just as she appeared to be, a normal human woman of Nordic blood despite her odd colouring

She’d been struggling to find a common ground with the wolf inside of her for… three? Four years now? Was trying to understand her midnight sister but thus far, that understanding had eluded her. It had been like trying to grasp at early morning mist that evaporated as soon as the sun’s rays or your fingertips touched it.

_How_ did simply being around Bishop do… _that_ to her wolf? It made no sense. But she wouldn’t question it right now. There would be time for that later when he didn’t fill her senses so completely.

The ranger kept one arm around her, holding her to him, as he untwisted her curls so they spilled down around her slender shoulders, unfurling to dance in the soft evening breeze. She stiffened slightly, was going to protest but all he did was tighten his arm around her just a bit and she shook her head with an indulgent smile.

“Leave your curls be. I like them down.”

Kalla turned her head and tipped it far back to meet his eyes. They were the same colour as the setting sun; gold and amber, flecked with topaz and honey, fringed by naturally thick, long dark brown lashes that any woman would have killed for. She could get lost in his eyes, in their rich whiskey warmth. She turned in his arms, slipped hers around his waist as she leaned into his body even as she pressed her nose to the skin of his chest exposed by his unbuttoned hunter-green shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He had on a pair of sturdy old blue jeans, their button also left undone, his dusty brown hiking boots on his feet --- which were huge, by the way. She thought he must wear at least a size fourteen.

The dying sun sparked copper and umber in his short hair that stood up in messy whorls and spikes. She had the urge to smooth it for him, wondered briefly what he would look like if he let it grow out just a few inches. Oh, not that long, not nearly as long as her hip-length curls, but just above his collar in the back and a touch shorter than his ears in the front. Either way, with the clean, bold planes of his face, the ranger was a very handsome man, even with the scars. Those just made him look more rugged, added a certain masculine appeal. She let her eyes trace the curve of his generous mouth, was acutely aware he was returning her direct scrutiny.

She touched the tip of her tongue to the centre of her bottom lip, tipping her head further back as she rose up onto her tip-toes. “Will you kiss me?” she asked him, slipping her arms from about his waist to curl loosely around his neck.

One corner of his expressive mouth quirked teasingly upwards, a light sparking in his gorgeous eyes. “What do I get if I say yes?”

Kalla pursed her lips slightly as she affected to think that carefully over. When he cocked a brow at her because she had remained silent too long for his liking, she closed her green eye and peered up at him through her waving curls with her blue one. “What do you want?” She hadn’t meant that to come out as suggestively as it did but well… it did.

Bishop pulled her even closer, almost off her feet entirely, his calloused hands gliding up under her shirt until they came into contact with her skin. “I want to see you again after this weekend.”

She grinned like an idiot. Didn’t care. “Really?” Gah, she sounded like a goober!

The ranger laughed amusedly. “Yes, really.”

She looked away from him, letting her hands fall to his biceps that swelled the heavy flannel of his shirt. She caught a corner of her bottom lip between her teeth, worrying it softly, as she felt heat suffusing her cheeks that he wanted an opportunity to spend time with her. She _should_ say no. She should. She _really_ should. The risks involved, not to her but to him, were no small consideration. Her stomach knotted with the ghost of dread at the thought of the people who were looking for her finding out about Bishop. But Eyrie had introduced them, had left her here with him. That must count for something, right?

She could smell his growing apprehension but it was faint, so very faint. He was uncertain, now, because of her hesitation, of what her reply would be and that unsettled him. He wasn’t used to a woman turning him down. And nor would she.

“Yes. All right,” Kalla finally answered him. A little weight slipped from her shoulders as soon as the words had left her mouth and she had the tentative hope she wasn’t making a mistake, for his sake.

“You don’t have to if you really don’t want to, princess.” A note of impartialness underlaid his normal gruff timbre as he dropped his arms from around her and began to move away.

She didn’t let him get very far. Kalla put her arms back around his waist and held on, didn’t let go as she looked back up into his handsome face, which had gone carefully impassive. He’d be a great poker player but not against her and her preternatural senses since she could tell from his scent his emotional state and there was a trace of resignation as well as hurt there. “I want to. Very much so,” she told him quietly, reaching a hand up to cup one stubbled cheek.

He closed his eyes, and slowly, very slowly, his arms again encircled her. She trailed her fingertips along his jaw, down to his chin, brushed them lightly over his mouth before she slipped her arm back around his waist and lay her cheek against his chest. His heart beat slow, strong and steady under her ear, lulling her back to peacefulness as they stood there in silence.

Dusk faded and Masser had already begun to rise before either one of them stirred. They couldn’t have stood there like that for more than half an hour at most. It seemed like a lot longer to her but also not, like only seconds had passed.

“I have something to ask you, Bishop,” Kalla began quietly, leaning back just far enough she could meet his curious gaze. She took a slow, careful breath before finishing it. “Take me to bed and stay there with me until morning?”

Seconds ticked by as he looked down at her. His smile, when it formed, was dazzling and held the warmth of a summer sun and reached all the way to his amber eyes. She actually got butterflies in her stomach to see it. He didn’t reply in words, just picked her up and carried her inside his cabin.

_______________________________________________________

**_~ Morndas Morning; 9:36 a.m. ~_ **

Kalla gradually became aware of the sensation of a very large male directly behind her. She could tell it was male by the fact that her bedpartner’s erection was trapped between them. The arm wrapped around her waist tightened its grip, pulling her closer to him, his breath a sleepy murmur in her ear. She bit her bottom lip to stifle a giggle and held herself perfectly still, resisting the urge to wiggle just to see what kind of a reaction she’d get from him.

_What the hells?_ she decided, shifting her hips slightly, just a tiny little sinuous roll of them. She was rewarded with a soft growl from the ranger and a sharp nip to her shoulder that had the chills racing all over her.

“Wicked little thing,” he breathed as she turned over to face him.

Kalla grinned, snuggling close as she slid an arm around his waist. “Good morning.”

Bishop lifted a stray curl from her cheek that hung down over her green eye, tucking it back behind her softly-pointed ear. “Morning, princess. How’d you sleep?”

She looped her arms loosely about his neck, threading her fingers through his short coppery hair at the back of his head, tugging him down so she could nuzzle her lips along his jaw. Bishop drifted his hands down her back until he could cup her backside, pulling her body up against his from thigh to chest. She stopped to nip his earlobe softly between her teeth before biting her bottom lip as she came into full contact with him. Her eyes heavy-lidded, she craned her neck so she could meet his likewise heavily-lidded gaze.

“Like the dead,” she answered, tucking her head under his chin as she allowed her hands to play down the planes of his back, fingertips tracing over the definition of muscles under his tawny skin. “But I’m awake now.”

“So I see,” the ranger chuckled, rolling onto his back and taking her with him.

Kalla snuggled down on his chest, running a hand up and down his bicep in an idle caress. “I think I could get used to waking up like this,” she murmured quietly then immediately went still and silent. Shit. She’d said that out loud! Fucking Oblivion, what would the big Nord think of her now? It wasn’t like they hadn’t spent the last two days fucking like bunnies and they barely knew each other! Still, the attraction was undeniable, otherwise she had no doubt he would have given her the heave-ho out his front door, or at least offered to drive her back to town. Something.

But nope, she was still here, in his cabin, in his bed and if the evidence now pressed intimately against her lower belly was any indication, he was more than just passingly attracted too. Kalla risked a glance up to his face, blushing even harder at the cocky smirk that met her eyes. She arched one brow sharply at him.

“Hey, you said it,” he taunted her.

“And you asked to see me again!” she threw right back.

They stared at each other for what seemed a small eternity before he grinned, sinking his fingers into her curls to push them back from her face and leaving them tangled there in the unruly mass of pale silvery-blonde.

“True. I did. And _you_ , little miss hellion, agreed to it,” he reminded her.

Kalla grinned herself, scrunching up her nose at him. “I did, didn’t I? Got a problem with that, wolf-boy?”

He chuckled again, tugging her higher so she had to brace herself above him. “None. Having second thoughts?”

She purposely remained quiet, affecting a thoughtful expression. Bishop raised his brows at her, quickly turning and pinning her under his body. “Maybe I need to give you a little more… incentive, hm?”

She wriggled, laughing softly as she cradled his hips between her thighs. “Baby, ain’t nothing about you is little,” she cooed at him, soft accented voice gone husky.

Bishop smirked down at her, carrying his weight on his elbows as he rocked his hips slowly against her, making his length slide through her slick folds and her eyelids flutter. “Is that so?” he asked, deep voice that low sultry rumble like summer thunder.

“Mhmmm,” Kalla breathed, curling her legs loosely about his waist.

“Too big for you?” he teased her, tracing his fingertips up and down the sides of her throat.

She shook her head lightly in the negative. “I like how you feel inside of me,” she told him candidly, blushing only slightly as she met his gaze and held it. “And I especially like how you feel against me.”

The ranger grinned, cocking one brow. “You don’t have to stroke my ego, you know.”

Kalla smirked, running the backs of her fingers along his stubbled jaw. “No, but I’ll stroke something else if you let me.”

_______________________________________________________

**_~ A Couple of Hours Later ~_ **

He watched from the bed as Kalla was doing push-ups on his floor. She’d pulled her hair back into a messy knot at the base of her skull, was wearing her black boy-short panties and one of his over-large tanks as she went through her morning work-out routine. A fine sheen of sweat dappled her porcelain skin, only he wasn’t sure if it was from her exercising or from what they had just finished doing.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. For some reason, he found it oddly attractive that she’d insisted on getting out of bed so she could get her work-out in, explaining to him that this was a part of her daily regimen. That brought to mind the fact that he hadn’t found out yet what line of work she was in. Now was as good a time as any to ask, he supposed, and he did just that.

Kalla sat down, putting her feet together and pulling them in as close to her thighs as she could get --- which was all the way up to her black panties. “I’m a bouncer at a club,” she told him, swiping a hand over her sweaty brow and pushing curls off her cheeks.

“A bouncer? As in, you break up fights and toss people out?” he asked her incredulously.

She nodded, the hint of a grin lurking around her wide, full lips, as if she knew what was going through his head; how could a tiny thing like her be a _bouncer_. “Yup.”

He moved to the edge of the bed, swung his legs over and sat there looking at her as if seeing her for the very first time. She appeared sweet, innocent with her delicate features and that pale colouring of hers. All wide dual-coloured eyes, wild curls and so small he could fit his thumb and first finger completely around one of her wrists, even with the layer of lean, dense muscling on her petite frame. He found he didn’t like the thought of her being hurt, even in her line of work.

It must have showed on his face because Kalla scooted over to him, kneeling between his legs as she settled her hands lightly on his waist. “Hey, relax. I have training, a lot of it. I know what I’m doing, ok?”

He cupped her face between his palms, tipping her head back so he could drop a kiss onto her lips. She curled her fingers about his forearms as she sighed contentedly and kissed him back. Bishop drew her up into the bed to lie next to him and she let him, curling against his side as she tucked her head onto his shoulder.

“What kinds of training?” he finally asked her, tracing his fingers up and down the groove of her spine.

Kalla stretched languidly against him with a soft purring sound of pleasure. “Mixed martial arts, kick-boxing and…” she paused, chewing delicately at a corner of her bottom lip in indecision. But it seemed safe enough so she continued with, “I used to be military so I have tactical hand-to-hand training as well.”

“Used to be?”

He didn’t sound suspicious so much as curious, Kalla judged. “Yeah,” she told him, attempting to think of a good way to answer him honestly without telling him everything but he was making it hard for her to concentrate, the way he was stroking her skin. “I’m not anymore though. Left a few years ago.” Ok, that wasn’t the complete truth but it was close enough. For some odd reason, she felt a bit bad about having to deceive him but it’s not like she could tell him she was an escaped science experiment. If he didn’t call the men in white coats to come take her away to the psych ward, he might just call the cops on her.

He toyed with her tips of her curls that brushed her lower back, twining them around his fingers before letting them go. It was hard to believe Kalla would do anything so physically intensive but then again, it wasn’t. She seemed the type of woman that liked to push her limits, if for no other reason than she could. “What made you leave? Were you discharged or something?”

She shrugged one shoulder. “It was just time for a change.” Again, not a complete lie but it was a deception. She folded her arms across his chest and perched her chin on them so she could regard the ranger. “What about you?”

He smirked, running his fingers through her hair, tugging it back from her face. “What about me?”

Kalla laughed, punching him lightly in the belly before he caught her hand in his and laid it flat against his chest. “You know what I mean. Did you always want to be a ranger? How’d you end up here at the park?”

“Not… really,” he hedged. She arched an inquiring brow at him. “I was offered the position and training when I was younger and, not having many opportunities, I took the one presented me.”

Her expression lightened, as if with understanding. “Ahhh. Another seize the day type, huh?”

“Something like that.”

She closed her green eye to peer at him with the blue. “Something like that, huh? Maybe you just have a fascination with wolves. Is it true this is the only place in Skyrim where there’s still a wild wolf pack that roams the place?”

“That is true. I even study them.” Inwardly, he breathed a sigh of relief that she wasn’t being as nosy as she possibly could be. Certainly not as much as he had been. He watched as her eyes lit up with interest, amused.

“That’s cool. Good with wild beasts, huh?” She looked very feline just then, with her chin resting on her folded arms and her eyes gone to brilliant slits as she looked up at him through her long, thick dark lashes.

“I’ve been known to tame a savage heart on occasion,” he teased her with a smirk that showed just the tiniest hint of one of his canines.

Kalla’s eyes narrowed still further as she pursed her lips slightly. “I just bet you have.”

_______________________________________________________

**_~ Morndas afternoon; 12:41 p.m. ~_ **

Despite the early afternoon hour the sun was making its way across the sky quicker now than before, hinting at the turning seasons. And despite the late hour of the _day_ , Bishop was still lounging around in bed when his phone began to play its typical chime. The annoyed sigh was on the tip of his tongue, a reflex, when it registered that it wasn’t the official mobile humming along but his private one. That made it a little bit better but he couldn’t say he was entirely pleased as he caught the piece of technology skittering across the bedside table. The name and picture flashing on the screen also deserved a mixed review.

Casting a swift glance at the closed bathroom door with deep golden whiskey eyes, Bishop debated not picking up at all, but Eyrie usually called while already on her way. She knew he could usually accommodate her or that she wouldn’t have to wait long for him to return to the cabin. It had always been that way, both in Skyrim and in Cyrodiil…

Faint trails of mist were escaping from the gap between door and floor over by the bathroom, accompanied by the sound of running water and Kalla’s voice rolling in melodious waves. The big Nord cursed silently and flicked the receiving button on the touchscreen, putting the phone to his ear. “You know, I both love and hate your timing,” he told the other end, the strain of his irritation playing faintly in his voice. His immediate reply from the mer on the other end was a smooth giggle, one that hadn’t changed much over the long years he’d heard it.

“Why?” Eyrie’s voice was loud, clear and teasing but it couldn’t completely drown out the sound of the car she was in, just as he’d expected. It _was_ Morndas and Kalla did have work this afternoon. The mer’s next words made Bishop snort in amusement though. “You inches deep in something?”

“You know I’m bigger than ‘just a few inches’, Trouble,” he growled at her as the memory of a certain house guest’s initial reaction to him flashed through his mind and making said anatomy twitch. Divines, how the fuck did she manage to turn him on so easily and in spite of the marathon they’d just finished?! Maybe it was just an extremely strong lust spell or the early stages of a passionate, long-term tryst and it would mellow a bit as it wore on but from what he’d seen so far of the tiny hellion the mer had thrown at him… It was doubtful he’d grow bored with her any time in the near future or she, him.

“Calling me Trouble? For shame,” the melodic soprano in his ear tsk’ed at him as he threw the sheets aside and got out of bed. “And after I’ve been _so_ _nice_ to you lately,” Eyrie lamented playfully, making Bishop direct his gaze momentarily from the bathroom to the phone in his hand, a grin spreading over his lips as he rubbed one bare shoulder adorned with both a bite mark and many red scratches.

“Your definition of ‘nice’ differs from most other people’s, Trouble,” he told her with a shake of his head as he began moving towards his quarry on silent feet, not that she would have been able to hear him approaching anyway. “But in this instance I’ll give it to you; you’ve been nice.”

“Such a concession! And from you.” The mock surprise was as palpable as the teasing, Bishop could almost see the grin upon her berry-stained lips. “It’s almost—” Eyrie’s voice paused suddenly, her voice changing from amusement to genuine amazement. “Is that… singing I hear? She’s awake?”

His hand was on the bathroom door by now, he could almost feel the heat from the scalding water that had most likely filled the room with fog. “Yeah, Kalla’s in the shower.” He could feel himself hardening at the thought of the tiny woman under the spray, white curls slicked back into a straight river down her back, the water glistening like drops of crystal on her porcelain skin, sliding smoothly down the toned muscles of her body, hanging suspended from her lashes that surrounded her dual-coloured eyes. “Make this short, Trouble.” There was a pregnant pause on the phone at the growling sound in his voice, a sound the mer knew exactly the origin of; the big Nord was stalking his prey, had it cornered and in his sights. She almost giggled again.

“How about _you_ make it short and sweet because _I’m_ tops thirty minutes away. And I don’t speed,” she told him smoothly. He didn’t need any more incentive. Hanging up without a goodbye, he pulled open the door and stepped inside the steamy bathroom.

“So take me home tonight / Like you know that you would,” Kalla was singing, bouncing around under the water falling down on her, completely oblivious to the fact that he was even in the room with her. “When you’re ready to be bad / Just give it to me good!” She finally turned and saw him, dropping the sponge she had been using with a startled squeak. Next he knew, said sponge was hurled at his bare chest. He caught it, grinning, as she glared at him.

“What the hells, man?! What is up with you and sneaking up on me in the shower?” Kalla groused at him, swiping water out of her face. She didn’t appear angry, just more bemused than anything as she stood there looking at him.

Bishop tossed the sponge into the sink, stripped off his sweatpants and entered the shower with her. She backed up against the wall to give him room, closing one eye and peering at him suspiciously with the other. “What time you get off work tonight, princess?”

She blinked, surprised. “Whyyy?” she asked, still suspicious.

He leaned down after he had blocked her into the corner, his mouth not an inch from one of her short pointed ears. “So I can ‘give it to you good’,” his deep voice rumbled and he added a growl on top of it for emphasis.

“Fuck me running,” Kalla breathed then started giggling as she wound her arms around his neck. “Yeah, sure, why not?”

Bishop picked her up and she wrapped her legs about his hips. “As for what is ‘up’ with me, darlin’…” he trailed off at the answering grin spreading itself over her face; she knew exactly what was up with him as the evidence was resting right between her thighs.

“I don’t think we have enough time right now,” Kalla told him, smoothing his wet hair back from his face before he started nibbling at her shoulder.

“No time like the present,” he threw at her.

“Good things come to those who wait,” she tossed right back, choking off a giggle.

“Time is of the essence,” he growled back, shifting his hips slightly so she’d feel him right at the entrance to her body.

“Patience is a vir— oh, who the fuck am I kidding?” Kalla laughed, tugging his head back so she could kiss him blind as he slid his length into her, making her toes literally curl.

_______________________________________________________

**_~ Morndas Afternoon; 1:10 p.m. ~_ **

Eyrie pulled into the driveway to the ranger’s cabin, punctual as always. Cutting the engine, she climbed out, adjusted her sky-blue blazer so it sat just so on her slender frame, snagged her designer handbag from the passenger seat and, running a manicured hand over her sunny hair to make sure it was all still in place, she made directly for the front door. Her fist was poised above the old oak, ready to knock when the door opened to show her Bishop, standing there barefoot in a pair of his faded denim jeans and a black button-down shirt he had left open.

The mer arched her finely shaped brows with a demure little smile as she swept her crystalline eyes over his rugged physique. “Still in one piece, I see,” she teased him, head canting to the side as if she was trying to look beyond him. “And is my little friend in a similar state, or…?” The smile upon her painted lips grew a little sharper, a little more mischievous as she trailed her crystalline gaze down his chest to linger on, she assumed, only _one_ of many bite marks she could spot between the pieces of fabric hanging loosely over his torso.

“You worried, Trouble?” the large Nord asked with a smirk as he moved to lean a shoulder on the doorframe, his new and slightly hunched posture making him just an inch shorter than the mer in her three inch heels. She gave him a carefree smile and an airy wave of one elegant hand.

“Oh, you know me. I try to look out for the people I care about,” she responded breezily before arching an amused brow. “Is she crawling down here or is there enough time for me to come in and sit down?” There was a noise behind the ranger, one that sounded suspiciously like someone taking the stairs down from the loft at a ‘far too fast to be safe’ pace and making Eyrie frown. Bishop’s lips stretched a little wider almost as if in answer to her question.

“Coooming through!” An _all_ too cheerful and energetic voice chirped, swiftly followed by the sound of feet being stomped into a pair of boots. Bishop shifted his back towards the door, leaving enough room for a certain tiny ghost to almost bounce past and, yes, apparently Kalla could still do that and Eyrie had just not known. The mer stared after the shorter woman before flipping back to face the very pleased looking Nord behind her.

“She’s walking. _Why_ is she walking?” Eyrie demanded, an expression that was a mixture of astonished and disgruntled gracing her features, as she just barely refrained from physically pointing to the tiny hellion skipping over to her car. “I expected more from you.” There was an accusation there in her voice as she gave him a faint glare. “Have you lost your touch or something?”

Bishop rubbed one brow with a smug grin that showed his even white teeth and slightly forward canines. “I haven’t lost a damned thing. If anything, I may have just gained a few more scars from your friend there. Wanna see the scratch marks that wee fiend left on my back?”

Eyrie’s brows shot up towards her hairline as she blushed delicately. “I’ll take your word for it,” she replied curtly, transferring her eyes back to Kalla who had bounced back up to them. Yes, she literally bounced!

“I forgot my pack,” the small Nord said sheepishly as she sidled past the mer, idly letting her fingers trail along the ranger’s bare abs as she disappeared into his cabin. She returned a second later with her large black leather backpack, pausing in front of the big man. She got up on tip-toe, tugged his head down and kissed him, right there in front of the grinning mer. “One a.m. Pick me up or shall I drive out here?” she asked him quietly, a low husky note to her otherwise usually high, girlish voice.

“I’ll come get you and we’ll go from there,” he told the petite Nord, flicking his golden eyes up to the mer’s inquisitive gaze.

Kalla kissed him again and he picked her up off her feet, deepening it for just a moment before he set her back down. She bit her bottom lip, cheeks flushed before she turned to grin at Eyrie. “Ready to go?” Kalla asked as she was already making her way back over to the mer’s car.

Eyrie divided a glance between the two Nords. “You do work fast, don’t you?”

Bishop shrugged, folding his arms across his broad chest with a cocky smirk. “Fast, slow, a lot of in and out, seems your friend likes me.”

The mer folded her own arms beneath her bosom, giving the big Nord a piqued sort of look. “And is the feeling mutual?” she all but cooed at him, crystalline blue eyes dancing with amusement.

He cocked a brow at her, one corner of his mouth quirking upwards. “We’ll call it an animal attraction for now.”

Eyrie snorted softly, kissed his cheek before she turned back to Kalla, who had climbed into the driver’s seat. It struck the mer then as she was walking over. “What happened to your vest?” she posed the question as delicately as she could as she got in the passenger seat and fastened the seatbelt.

“Casualty of the weekend,” the petite Nord replied flippantly, holding her hand out for the keys, which Eyrie dropped into it. Kalla started the car, glancing at the mer as she grinned wolfishly. “Besides, good excuse to get one of his shirts, no?” She waggled her brows, laughing.

Kalla threw the car into gear, backing out of the drive so fast she sent up a spray of gravel. Whipping the wheel, she turned the Sabrecat sharply onto the road that led down the mountain. Eyrie held on for dear life as Kalla took the many twists and turns at a high rate of speed, dodging around the other cars who weren’t going fast enough for her.

“Eyrie, you are one seriously crazy bitch!” Kalla laughed above the rushing of the wind that blew her curls straight out to fly like a banner.

The mer leaned against her door, the better to observe her friend who appeared to have a smile permanently on her delicate features. “Bleeding Oblivion!” She grabbed hold of the door for extra leverage while Kalla just laughed wildly into the wind, laying the pedal down to go flying around a curve. “You know, if I knew you’d attempt a murder-suicide because of one little man, I wouldn’t have given you the keys!”

“He’s not that little!” Kalla laughed, actually wriggling in her seat as she flew around a big logging truck. The driver cursed them, blaring his horn at the white sports car. The petite Nord ignored him and continued to zip down the two-lane track. “Besides, you’re not dying. At least not today!”

“For your information, I know he’s not that little either!” The mer laughed, Kalla’s high spirits starting to infect her with a sort of fellow-giddiness. “But then why are you acting like you’re crazier than usual?” she almost purred, narrowing her almond-shaped eyes on the tiny fiend. She knew exactly why Kalla was acting like a lunatic and found it highly entertaining that the ranger had this type of effect on her friend. It was nice to see the woman loosen up and have some fun for once rather than being so tightly controlled she was liable to snap from the constant tension of trying to hold herself apart from everyone around her.

Kalla giggled, flipping on the radio to a local rock station.

“Both hands on the wheel!” Eyrie squealed above the din, feeling her heart leap in her breast. Letting Kalla drive was appearing to have been a very bad idea.

“It takes two hands to handle him too!” the petite Nord threw right back with another of her wolfish grins, glancing at the mer. “I really should kill you for this. Good thing I love you too much and I’m running out of places to hide the bodies besides.”

Eyrie groaned, covering her face with both hands; she would just have to hook up one of her best friends with a man that brought out the crazy in her --- or made her crazier than she already was, the mer reflected grimly as Kalla pushed the pedal to the accelerator down even further and sent them flying onto the expressway back to Solitude. She hoped she hadn’t just made a huge mistake by introducing those two.

“That reminds me!” Kalla shouted above the music pouring out of the speakers. “Did you purposely like… Fuck, Eyrie, you all but gave me gift wrapped to Bishop and this time of year too!”

The mer blinked at the question, barely keeping herself from having a heartattack as the small Nord jerked the wheel hard at the same time she laid down the speed, dodging around a slow moving minivan. “Time of year? What on Nirn are you blathering on about now?”

The petite Nord glanced at her long enough to arch one brow high, the corners of her slightly too wide mouth curving upwards in the most wolfish of smiles yet. Her dual-coloured eyes even held a faintly reddish gleam that made the mer shift uncomfortably in her seat, as if she sensed the beast inside of Kalla was just below the surface. “It’s mating season,” was the succinct reply.

“Mating season?” _Why_ was she repeating everything the tiny fiend was saying. Then it dawned on her; Bishop had once told her that wolves mated in the fall and the spring and it was early spring now. Eyrie covered her face with one hand and groaned. “What are you, an animal?”

Laughing first, Kalla tipped her head back and howled, sounding exactly like one of the wolves in the Sanctuary.

Well, that answered Eyrie’s question for her. May the Divines and daedra help the ranger tame this tiny lunatic of a hellion. _If_ he could.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You read all the way to the end? Wow, congrats! Have a dirty picture. >.> I'd ask you to pinpoint when in this chapter that scene happens but... I think there are too many moments to choose from.
> 
> Edit: I... was certain I put the picture in. If it was removed, I would love to know if I need to up the rating of the work to keep it there. XD; Apologies to AO3, I often get a bit uncertain about what rating to use.


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